TES 3-5: The account of an Argonian maid
by Secret Sheik
Summary: A former maid, once Nerevarine, Hortator and Arch-Magister of the Telvanni, gets shoved yet again into a prophecy she didn't necessarily want. Things had been fine enough until dragons came around, but she and Aryon had never really had that kind of luck anyway.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own. This idea came from my first inspiration for my old Morrowind character, who I knew I had to make after reading The Lusty Argonian Maid. I wondered if she might have been a real person, what might have been their actual conversation, and not just what Crassius wanted to hear. It somehow evolved into a real character with a more complex personality, becoming my avatar in other Elder Scrolls games I've played. She became more than just a randomly chosen character, and seeing all the other fanfics out there with their own Nerevarine characters, I'm not alone in this. Taking her into Skyrim was... strange, but I thought why not, the Nerevarine is immortal. First is the prologue and her background and what all happened during her odd beginnings and then the events of Morrowind, then her continuing adventures in Skyrim. This was written mostly for my own enjoyment but if you feel like reading it too, go for it.

* * *

It had begun innocently. Really, it had. She had been cleaning as always, just going about her business. An Imperial building needed a good deal of that, after all. After she had been orphaned, her parents dead during the Arnesian war and being an Argonian marooned in a sea of Dunmer and Imperials, Laje-tal had been unwittingly born into a life of slavery. She escaped, of course, and after a time she found herself here, deep in Morrowind near the city of Mournhold. Though it hadn't been easy, being a live-in maid did have the benefit of good protection and a fine roof over her head, even if it wasn't hers. She wasn't even a slave anymore, the Imperials she was working for certainly didn't stand for that and paid her for her work. Everything had been perfectly fine until he came along.

She had been notified of a noble coming to stay at the manor for a few days, some man from the Great House Hlaalu. His room would be just as clean as anyone else's so she wasn't sure why they bothered telling her, but Imperials were funny about appearances. A vague promise to do a better job than usual had sufficed well enough, and so it was that she had been cleaning when the man came in. Curse the damn fireplace and its constant filth.

"Well well, did the mistress really send me my very own servant?" Despite herself she had looked, taking in a brief glance of aging, uninteresting Imperial. Ignoring him, she went about her business but he just kept on talking. "I say, my fair lady, are you here to serve me?"

Hiding a roll of her eyes she answered him curtly. "No, I'm simply here to clean your chambers. I'll be finished soon enough."

He didn't take being shoved off easily. "Is that all you came for, my sweet? My chambers?"

This time she frowned at him. "Yes. Once I'm done someone will be along with your linens."

"Such a shame, I'd rather have you bring my linens. You have such strong legs and a shapely tail!"

This needed to end now. Unfortunately she hadn't quite gotten a particularly tough soot stain off the mantle and she cursed every speck of ash as she scrubbed it away. "I'm sure you have better things to do than harassing the maids."

He smiled a smile she found terribly disgusting. "Not at all. I wouldn't harm a scale on you, I'm merely offering you a compliment."

"If you don't mind, I need to get back to my cleaning. You're distracting me."

"Cleaning, you say? I have just the thing." Holding out a long, steel spear, he gestured, trying to get her to take it. "Here, why don't you polish my spear?"

Taking one look at it she could tell it was tarnished, needing the attention of a specialist. "I don't take care of such a thing. You would do best to see the weapons master."

Finally she managed to dislodge him – for now.

* * *

The second time she had met Crassius Curio, she had known his name. She had been cautioned to his nature this time, and she knew better what to expect. He was a man with perverse notions, harmless enough but still disturbing. Unfortunately he was also one of the Hlaalu councilors so everyone did what they could to humor him. To her dismay, this time he also knew her name.

"Why hello there, Laje-tal!" Yet again he had found her, right on schedule with when she was set to start cleaning. Wonderful. "You know, I was wondering, what sort of name is Laje-tal? Not that it doesn't fit such a beautiful creature, but I don't know what to make of it."

Gritting her teeth, she set about straightening his bed covers. "In your tongue it means lifts her tail. A lifted tail is a sign of health and strength. It doesn't do to drag one's tail on the ground like a sick animal. If you were to actually consult those books of yours you would see it is a common enough name."

"Oh." Not sure what to think, he defaulted to what had brought him here to begin with. "Maybe you can solve this conundrum of mine... I don't think I've been doing it quite right." He took out a dish full of raw bread dough, poking at it. "Would you know what the next step in making this would be?"

She stared into the bowl, the enormous amount not even kneaded yet. Even she knew better, and she wasn't one of the cooks. "You made too much, you'll need two pans for that, and you had better knead it first. Ask one of the cooks about it."

"The next step is to knead it?"

"It needs yeast, and needs to rise, but yes. Again, I don't know. Ask one of the cooks."

Risking a curious glance, he offered her the bowl. "I don't quite know how. Would you knead it for me?"

This time she didn't conceal her rolling eyes. "You shouldn't even have such a thing out of the kitchens. The mistress would have a fit if she noticed it missing. You had better return it."

"Oh don't fret about the mistress, she will get her appetite sated well enough."

She froze, suddenly catching on to his innuendo. Really, she had been too literal and innocent a type to know any better at her young age. Dropping the covers as they lay she left, giving up. It was rumored that Queen Barenziah would be coming by. Maybe the fair queen mother would take another guard for her caravan. By any Daedra that would help her, she hoped so.

* * *

The third time they met, things had been very different indeed. She had taken that guard job, changing her profession into one that suited her need for adventure, desire to learn more magic, and of course getting away from Imperial nobility. She served the queen faithfully for a good long time but after being framed for a crime she was sent to an Imperial prison, at a loss for what to do next. Then one day without warning she was released and transferred to Vvardenfell, starting a journey she never would have expected.

Along that odd journey she had come to the city of Sadrith Mora, a place she came to know inside and out after joining House Telvanni. They had everything she wanted; free magic, interesting enchanted items, access to as many books as she could read, everything! The only thing missing was not getting those odd looks every time she came into a room. It was almost as if they had never seen an Argonian Telvanni wizard before. Well, they hadn't, but did they really have to do that every time she entered? Still, if nothing else the Telvanni minded their business, unlike the pesky Hlaalu and stuffy Redoran. By the time they realized she intended to carve a more permanent place in their world she had already dug herself too far in to be easily ousted.

The wizard Aryon, a Dunmer with a very obvious chip on his shoulder, had reluctantly agreed to be her patron in the house, glad for an ally against the stagnation of the rest of the house, and now it was as his second that she stood here in the Hlaalu canton of Vivec, following the Nerevarine prophecy that she had somehow found herself fulfilling, taking the last step to be the Hlaalu hortator. House Redoran had accepted her readily enough and after all her hard work the Telvanni accepted her, but the moment she saw Crassius Curio she groaned, hoping against all hopes that he wouldn't recognize her after all these years. Fate was crueler than that.

"Laje-tal!"

She winced. Really, most of the time the soft-skins got members of her kin confused for one another, not noticing the subtle differences in face and skin patterns, but she just had to come across one of the few who never forgot. Trying her best to be diplomatic she spoke plainly, but he had demanded the unacceptable. No, she wasn't keen on stripping for him. Instead she had shoved a mountain of coins at him, bribing the position out of him. It left her nearly broke and angry but she had an idea of how to solve that. Yes, a Telvanni Arch-Magister and his two dremora guards were on her hit list. That might make her feel better. For now.

* * *

The final time she saw him, he was laying in a pool of blood at her feet. Someone had been so terribly annoyed by him that they enlisted the Morag Tong to take care of him, just when she had been itching to do it herself. Although it was beyond disappointing, it was at least satisfying to witness the scene of the execution. Somewhat.

His latest play had been what inspired her to go there that day. Sure, his own name had been changed and he used her common tongue version of her name, but anyone who knew the Argonian language enough to know what her name meant hadn't had the decency to not raise an eyebrow at her. All of those she was able to call friends, along with those who knew about the man's more... peculiar enjoyments didn't believe one bit of it, but it was slander all the same. If only she knew who had slain him! She would be sure to go congratulate them.

When she went to visit Aryon, arms full of every copy of the play she could find, he had given his faithful student a curious look as she dumped the load near his pile of firewood. As soon as he saw what they all were his smile widened, threatening to become a full smirk. "Planning a bonfire today?"

Turning to him with a toothy grin she rubbed her hands together with expectation. "Yes, a big one, a whole pillar of fire." It hadn't taken too long for her to figure out who had issued the hit on Crassius, and it was with a glint in her eye that she came closer to her mentor, almost freezing him in place with just a look. "I would have done it outside but you know, I said to myself I bet Aryon would love to join in the celebration. I haven't the slightest idea what gave me that notion but then I've never been one to question such things when I think of them. Tell me, am I right?"

He shrugged helplessly, playing along. "It did occur to me today that it was a bit cold outside."

She did grabbed the collar of his robes, seeing the challenging look in his eyes that had first sparked the day she had killed Gothren, tossing the blood stained robe at his feet. That had been the day their strange but very strong relationship had become anything but platonic, albeit in a sudden, unexpected outburst of action. "Cold, was it?" Turning about just enough to focus her aim she concentrated a small bit of magic into her hand, pulling on the telekinesis spell to toss the papers into the fireplace, chucking a fireball right after them until they burned to her satisfaction. "Somehow I'm not quite sure that will be enough."

Their difference in height was only slight, and he found it easy to challenge her grip, knowing how even a battle it would be between them. "Come now, I taught you better. I know you have more than that in you. Show me what you've learned."

* * *

Together they had finally managed to subdue an Oblivion gate in Sadrith Mora. Though they couldn't close the things, they could at least lessen the magic that allowed the Daedra through. Both Aryon and herself had worked side by side openly for the first time during the crisis, the troubles too great for anyone to care who or what aided their escape. In the chaos the true leader of the house had been revealed, along with their clandestine relationship, but it had become an afterthought as the battle raged onward. Tel Uvirith had unsurprisingly fallen, being too small yet and not as well guarded as the other strongholds. Laje-tal had evacuated her retainers beforehand, knowing the hordes of daedra would be too much for anyone. She, along with Aryon, had never kept slaves, considering the act both unnecessary and tasteless, given her lineage, but they did have plenty of paid servants and now it was everyone for themselves.

Most of the other Telvanni had joined in with them, doing what little they could to abate the damage to their holdings as well as the rest of Vvardenfell. The Mages Guild stood side by side with the Telvanni, former Argonian and Khajiit slaves helping bring buckets of water to douse the homes of Dunmer and Imperials. For once everyone on the island was in agreement, and it was both heartening and chilling to watch. Daedra poured out of the uncontrolled Oblivion gates, coming by the tens and then hundreds. It was all that the mages could do to stem the tide, the rest left up to swordsmen, archers and pikemen. Everything seemed hopeless.

Dratha, the only Telvanni councilor who had accepted Laje-tal with open arms, came running up to them, burned and out of breath. "Arch-Magister! My stronghold has fallen, Therana is dead and her holdings burned. Neloth has disappeared and Sadrith Mora is overrun. We can't take much more of this."

Laje-tal turned to her, still a little off-put by how the other woman addressed her. It had only just been revealed that an Argonian had been the true Arch-Magister, but then Dratha was odd like that. All she cared was that the new Arch-Magister wasn't another man. "We need to evacuate everyone, it's pointless to defend everything. The more people that gather, the more dangerous it's becoming. Clear out as many as you can to the wilds, these gates seem to be opening only near the cities and towns. There's no hope for House Telvanni, just save what you can and run!"

Understandably Dratha looked shaken, but she could see just as clearly that this was the only choice left for them; for anyone. The mages would hold back the daedra until their wills broke, but it would be sooner rather than later. Already some had been drained to exhaustion, there wasn't much time left. She gathered what remained of her warrior-women, giving them orders while nervously watching as the ground shook.

Pain and terror were all that anyone remembered during those days, broken only by grieving the dead and anger as they struck their foes. As suddenly as it came, it stopped. The gates suddenly stopped functioning, becoming smoking husks of stone. Despite their efforts, the official count of the dead was unknown. There were simply too many to even begin, but all got a proper burial – if anything was left of them to bury. Dunmer custom demanded burial by fire, and it was said that the skies burned dull red every night for an entire month from the pyres. It was only the beginning of picking up the pieces.

* * *

The five years after the crisis had been hard to say the least. What was left of their world was unrecognizable. Laje-tal had felt a strange thing during the Oblivion crisis, something that made her yearn to go to Black Marsh, but she had fought it off easily enough, dismissing it as an anomaly. Later they found out that many Argonians had been called the same way by the Hist to fight against the daedra attacking the marsh. Ald'ruhn had been all but cleared from the map, utterly destroyed. Imperial soldiers had been called back to Cyrodiil in droves, abandoning both the island and the mainland of Morrowind. Although some of them understood the need to protect home before all else, most of Morrowind detested the action, further degrading their relationship.

As for the Imperial City, to say that it was in a disastrous state would have been a horrendous understatement. The last of the Septim line was dead, the nation had no ruler, and everything was falling apart as they watched. On Vvardenfell, now completely separated from Imperial help, Laje-tal couldn't help but think that the Ashlanders and dissidents had finally gotten what they wanted. The Imperials were gone. Five years passed, a long, quiet five years filled with work and suffering. It was only to get worse.

One day Laje-tal woke earlier than usual, rising from the bed in the small house they had been sheltering in. Vos and Tel Vos had been just as well destroyed as anywhere else, so Aryon had sent on what little he could of what remained on to other holdings, retreating with her to live as quietly as they could, keeping low in their weakness. She didn't know what roused her, but she felt it in her blood just as surely as she had felt the pull of the Hist. Leaving Aryon to rest as long as he could she walked outside, watching as the sun was just about to rise.

The air was cold, typical for that time of the year, but it didn't stop her from following what tugged on her. Facing the direction of the sun, she felt something she hadn't felt in years. Azura was there, showing her the way yet again. Her moon and star ring on her hand burned a cold fiery burn, sudden images coming to mind. A mountain glowed red hot, rocks fell from the sky, entire towns sunk into the ground beneath. Just as it felt about to end, she heard Azura's voice.

"_This will come to pass, friend to my children. Many have been told, but not all will listen. You still hold many hearts of the people, and they may yet listen to what I must say. Red Mountain will roar as it never has in times past, and those who seek power will take advantage of a weakness. Remove yourself from this land, Argonian, and take any with you that will follow you. Bear west and north, only there will you escape the tide of blood to come_."

Then suddenly Azura was gone, only the pulling tug remaining, guiding her where she was to flee to. By now Laje-tal had learned to heed the Daedric prince's advice, and it wasn't long before she got over the shock, dashing back inside to pack immediately. Shaking Aryon awake, she countered his confused look by shoving his empty pack onto his lap. "Red Mountain is going to erupt. Azura wants us to get as many out as we can."

He rose as quickly as could be expected, feeling somewhat dumbfounded. "What?"

Showing her hand quickly enough to point to Nerevar's ring, she went about stashing away as much as she could in her pack. "It's just like before, with Dagoth Ur. We can't stay on Vvardenfell much longer, and neither can anyone else. We won't be able to save everyone, but we have to do what we can."

Being of the Telvanni, it was in their nature to ignore things outside of their own cares, but neither of them had really had that disposition. They had always been more involved in everything going on, from the Ashlander relations to the way goods were traded. Aryon had also known her for too long to wonder that she suddenly received a vision from Azura. There had been more than one before, and all had come true. He himself had seen other followers of Azura have much the same experience. As a Dunmer, he knew that the Daedric lords were quite real indeed, even if their motives were often questionable. Azura, on the other hand, had a kinship with the Dunmer especially, and he didn't find it hard to believe that she was watching over them. "If Azura says we're to go, then we must go. I'll send off as many messages as I can. If they will come, then they will. If not..."

"It can't be helped." She stopped for a moment in her packing, suddenly seeing beyond sight, more thoughts and images flooding into her. "Wait. There is more. I see a war. There is blood, fire, more death. Other Argonians." Shaking her head against the sensations, she became more hasty in her preparations. "We will need to be careful, I think, once we leave Vvardenfell. If my kin are truly preparing to fight us, we need to get well out of their range. I strongly doubt they would allow even me to live."

"No, probably not." They hadn't addressed her status among other Argonians much during her time on Vvardenfell. It hadn't mattered, with everything else that had been happening, but now the sudden threat of others of her kind loomed as a very real danger. She would be killed just as coldly as any other Telvanni, even if she hadn't taken part in the darker methods of the others. Sensing her trepidation, he came closer to her, giving an embrace she hadn't known she was wanting. "Some days you are so much more Dunmer than Argonian, I almost forget. I forget that you never knew what it was to be among your own people. I'll never understand that about you."

"There's no need," she reassured him, returning the embrace unconsciously. "I'm not a Dunmer, nor am I Argonian or Imperial or anything else." Pulling back from him she offered him one of her trademark toothy grins. "I am just myself, and it's all I can ever be."


	2. Chapter 2

That had been almost two hundred years ago, in another time and another place, seeming so many lifetimes ago. Laje-tal struggled to her feet, coughing up the small amount of blood in her mouth. Digging her claws into the dirt, arms straining against the pain and weakness in her muscles, she finally rose, looking around to see where she had ended up. The attack had come by surprise, catching her while she had been asleep. Skyrim had seemed so safe in the wilderness, only filled with bears and giants. In the night, several bandits had attacked, not one of them realizing who they were fighting against. She had taken them out easily enough, but her magicka was drained nearly to the point of collapse soon after.

"Always overdoing it, aren't you?" she asked herself rhetorically, groaning as she stood straighter. Those bandits hadn't known that she was Telvanni, and even though they outnumbered her twelve to one, she had enough magic to go around and they had annoyed her enough to make their annihilation satisfying. It had been too long since she had summoned up so much power and she had to admit it felt good. For now she stifled the energy that still burned in her blood, checking the landscape for anything resembling civilization. The Nords were accepting enough of magic to a point, but an Argonian mage was an oddity enough on its own; she didn't need her magic to spontaneously combust on top of everything else.

Staggering down a dirt trail, she picked her way down to a poorly kept but clear road, following a direction at random. One way or the other, a road led to water and then to towns. From there she could regroup. Suddenly a slight splat of water hit her nose and she looked to the sky with a groan. "By Azura, what now?" Her question was answered soon enough as more drops of water fell to the ground, splashing about as it rained steadily harder until the din almost drowned out her thoughts. Almost.

As she trudged on miserably in the pouring rain, looking for a temporary shelter, she was once again lost in the many thoughts that roiled through her mind. This place was so different from home, though she had gotten used to it after being immersed for so long. Back then, she didn't know where she was escaping to. Morrowind, and then the province of Vvardenfell, had always been her home. Outside of it were strange, foreign lands that she had only heard of. Azura had directed her to go north and then west, so she did as guided, bringing with her all in her household that had heeded her vision. It couldn't have been more well timed. Any later and there would have been no escape at all, only death. Only the violent explosion of Red Mountain destroying nearly everything on the continent and then some.

"Ah, Aryon, I bet you are laughing at me right now, wherever you are. Nerevar reborn, mucking through the mud in Skyrim, picking fights with idiot bandits, looking for any sign of you." Spotting an outcropping of rock she darted under it, finally free of the dense rain. It wasn't exactly a warm inn and a bed, but there was enough dry wood about to make a fire so she couldn't complain. As soon as she set up a small fire, trying to dry out as much she could before it got any colder, her attention was drawn to the rolling clouds outside, scudding quickly as the winds pushed them forward.

"I should have known better than to expect anything else. I'm doomed for all eternity to trudge through whatever falls in my path." She hadn't understood what Azura meant back then. The curse of flesh part of the Nerevarine prophecy made sense enough, but she hadn't realized the true meaning of how blight nor age would harm the Nerevarine. She hadn't thought it would make her truly immortal. Though there were many in House Telvanni that extended their lives indefinitely through various spell methods, she herself hadn't dabbled in it much. The ways of the Hist were about life, death and renewal. Despite having been born and raised outside of her homeland, she still felt connected to the Hist, just as any other Argonian. Without the cycle of death, she was stuck as she was for who knew how long.

Every day she set forth on some new or continued task, always looking for a hint or rumor about any powerful mages. Maybe she might do a favor to win trust, and some called her a local hero, some called her brave or courageous. Inside, she wasn't any of these things. Each new adventure was in hope of finding something, anything that might help her find Aryon again. They had become separated in Skyrim during the Forsworn Rebellion. When Azura had said west, she took it quite literally, going as west as she possibly could in Skyrim and into Markarth, where they had lived quietly enough in the outskirts until the Forsworn had come about and attacked. Naturally they attacked back but in the confusion they became separated and she hadn't seen him since. She had fled all the way past Falkreath to lay low during the two years of war, avoiding more Forsworn as they pushed east. There was always the possibility he had been killed, but she doubted it. He was just as much of a powerful mage as she was.

"I can't do this." Kicking her campfire out into the rain, she left her small shelter, going out once again onto the road. The rain didn't matter anymore. It was cold, hard and hit her skin like pellets of ice but it was distracting. Under this torrent, she could think clearly. "I can't give up, not even after twenty five years of looking. I have to think of something."

It was dark, cold and wet. The only good thing about this was that her dark scales and coloring easily blended into the night and made her nearly invisible. Creatures nearby were either avoiding being out in the open or were asleep, so she made it to a nearby building without opposition. Looking up, she saw a sign for the inn flapping in the wind, Braidwood Inn of Kynesgrove. "It's about time," she grumbled, her energy returning somewhat as she walked into the inn. A fresh wave of wonderful heat hit her face, and against her usual composure she sighed with relief. She took a moment to get warm by the fire, ignoring the greeting from the innkeeper. It wouldn't dry her off quickly, but she didn't care. It was warm and it was there right now.

A few other people lingered nearby, talking, eating, or listening to the bard sing. They tried their best to not look like they were secretly watching the unusual traveler, but she felt their stare like a weight on her shoulders. At least she was used to it. Even after these many years, she was still gawked at by every human and even many of the elves. In Markarth, she had been able to come and go more or less unnoticed, the natives used to her presence, but it no longer bothered her. Finally warm enough to move again she approached the bar at the back, ordering a plain ale and stew. Somehow the Nord mead never sat with her right.

Iddra served her quickly, leaning back with a sympathetic look on her face. "Did Ulfric kick you out too, Argonian? Seems every day he's finding someone lingering out of the Gray Quarter, he kicks them out for the day and they've got no place to come but here. Not that I dislike all the new business I get."

She recognized the name of the Stormcloaks leader, but she hadn't heard much of the situation in Windhelm. "No, I haven't been to Windhelm yet."

"Yet? You really want to go there? I wouldn't if I were you, he isn't fond of anyone who isn't a Nord. Whatever you're doing out there, I'd avoid going anywhere near the place."

Laje-tal only huffed quietly. "Ulfric doesn't scare me. He's just a man." Taking a good gulp of ale, she grinned a toothy grin. "I don't care if I have to lift Ulfric's boot off the floor to look beneath it, he won't stop me from my search."

Caught off guard by the other's tenacity, she couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous it was. "If you say so. What are you looking for? Maybe someone around here could help you."

For a moment, she considered it. If she could avoid Windhelm she would. Though she was hardly worried about being in the place, she still found it distasteful. It wouldn't hurt to ask around. "I am looking for a Dunmer. I've been searching the west for many years, working my way east. I have looked every place that Dunmer were said to gather, and now I've come here as many have said that the Dunmer largely settled here."

"Hmm." Taking a brief look around, making sure nobody else needed anything, she leaned back against the bar, tired. "You might not be able to avoid Windhelm, then. There are some dark elves in the Gray Quarter, it's the only place in Windhelm they're safe. Nothing else, there's a bar down in the quarter, they might at least know where there are others. Can't help you much on that."

She waved off the other's apology with a grunt. "I didn't expect you to. Finding Dunmer here is hard enough. They keep out of sight of the Nords, but it means I can't find them easily either. I suppose there's no helping it." Sliding a handful of coins down the bar, she put down her empty bottle and bowl with an exhausted clank. "I'll take a room for the night."

"Coming right up." Shoving off from the bar edge she led her guest to the room, gesturing grandly into the small enclosure. "Cozy enough, trust me. Alright, any people after your blood I should know about?"

Laje-tal only chuckled, shaking her head. "Not yet. Give it time, there will be." Relieved to have a safe place to sleep at last she closed the door, stripping off her wet clothes and laying them to dry over the chair and nearby dresser, changing into a dry set. The next moments blurred into nothing, fading away as she dropped into the bed to sleep, barely even managing to pull the covers over before losing consciousness. Tomorrow was another day, but she was finally hopeful after such a long, fruitless search.

* * *

Morning came, and of course she had slept longer than planned, but the rest was worth it. She woke with renewed determination, and she had the energy to back it up. Her wet clothes had dried out enough to be packed away, but they were stiff and crusty from who knew how many residues on them. The mage robes she had on now were at least clean, so she wasted no more time and headed out of the inn, ignoring any who greeted her. She wasn't in any mood for pleasantries.

North of Kynesgrove, she followed the stony road all the way to the gates of Windhelm, pausing long enough to look up at them with frustration. A guard looked at her for longer than she was comfortable with so she moved on, not letting the other have the satisfaction of seeing her cringe. They couldn't do anything to her as long as she didn't do anything wrong, but she knew they were watching her closely for any small thing. It was best to keep moving.

Her first impression of Windhelm wasn't a good one. Nords accosting a Dunmer woman simply going about her business didn't bode well, but she stopped the encounter quickly enough, going as far as brawling with one of them. Against her years of experience and training they were just annoyances. The woman, who had wisely backed away during the fight, now approached her with an appreciative gaze. "That was impressive, Argonian. It's not every day that someone puts Rolff in his place. I don't know how I could begin to thank you for your help."

Laje-tal only shrugged. She somehow found herself doing these things everywhere she went anyway. "It was nothing." Pausing briefly, she took a quick look around the oddly organized city. "Well, maybe you can help me after all. I am looking for a Dunmer man, looks about your age. He is a great wizard and has connections to the great houses. Do you know anyone like that?"

"I don't think so," she said uncertainly. "There is one from House Hlaalu, but he isn't a wizard. I'm not sure about any others from the old houses. Some had no affiliation at all, and a great wizard wouldn't be able to stay here long without Ulfric getting nervous. Maybe Ambarys would know where to look. Go down into the Gray Quarter and look for the New Gnisis Cornerclub, Ambarys should know more about the others here." She took a quick breath of air in suddenly. "Oh, and be careful around here. Argonians stay down by the docks if they can help it, the guards are known to rough up any who are too bold."

"I'll keep that in mind," she promised, already eager to head further into the city, guards be damned. "Thanks for the information." Without any more hesitation she walked quickly to the back of the city, down into the broken alleys of the Gray Quarter. At first it looked much like the rest of the city, albeit more run down, but several brightly colored banners waving in the breeze caught her attention. "A little touch of home, hm? Maybe they will have a few drinks from Morrowind." Not risking any more words lest anyone overhear her, she moved faster down the narrow alley. It wasn't common knowledge that she was still alive. On the contrary, it had been quite a business covering her escape. Luckily there had been an Argonian volunteer that looked enough like her to spread rumors that she had run to Akavir just before the Oblivion crisis, and during the crisis all who had seen her had died or hadn't noticed her in the confusion.

The New Gnisis Cornerclub wasn't much to look at, but it did remind her of Gnisis – the wooden, run down miner shacks in Gnisis, anyway. She was hardly picky, though, and the idea of something other than Nord fare was too appetizing to pass up. Taking care on the uneven street as she entered, a familiar smell of spices and food met her the moment she came in, drawing her further inside. A Dunmer man swept the floor nearby, another tended the bar. Assuming the one at the bar was Ambarys, she took a stool at the bar, asking what was good on the menu.

Ambarys gave her an odd look but gave her the run down nonetheless. "The usual things you'd find around here, plus a few brews from our homeland. I haven't seen you around here before, Argonian. Are you a new worker at the docks?"

"Hardly," she said with a scoff. "I'm a battlemage, couldn't you tell?"

He backed away, taking in her clothing. "Not every day you see an Argonian battlemage. You'd better be careful out there, Ulfric doesn't appreciate our like getting too close to his little castle, especially the mages."

"I know, and I don't care. He would find out quickly that picking a fight with me would cause him more harm than good. You said you had some brews from Morrowind?"

Smiling at her conviction, he took a calmer pose. "I do. I managed to save some sujamma and mazte, along with a bit of Cyrodiilic brandy from the Imperials. There isn't much, but it's just as much for sale as anything else I have. We've had a handful of shipments coming in from Solstheim where it's still being made."

Her attention caught with that one. "Solstheim? Well now... I suppose that makes sense. There's probably plenty enough ash to grow just about anything native to Vvardenfell there. Well why not, I'm getting tired of the same thing over and over. How about some of that mazte?"

"A fine choice, to be sure." He took out a larger sized jug, taking the pay for it and passing it over. "So what brings an Argonian battlemage to a place like Windhelm?"

She waited until she had taken a swig of the mazte, savoring the flavor for the first time in at least two hundred years. "This is very good indeed. I'm not sure if you can help me, but you seem just as good as anyone to know. I have been looking for a Dunmer, he is older but he still looks young, he was once allied with House Telvanni and was a great wizard there. From what I could tell, most of the Dunmer of Skyrim are here or near here, but I haven't found anything so far."

Ambarys looked at her with a guarded expression, taking the odd situation with a dash of skepticism. "A Telvanni wizard? How in all the planes of Oblivion did an Argonian battlemage and a Telvanni wizard even have the chance to meet?"

Being cautious with her wording, she explained with a carefully plain tone. "We knew each other in Markath. We were both drawn to the mysteries of Dwarven constructs and started talking after ending up at the same exhibit in the Dwemer museum there. He had several theories about the workings of the machinery there, and before you knew it, we had become friends. It didn't matter to him that I was an Argonian, we were only interested in ruins. We lost track of each other during the Markarth Incident and I haven't seen him since, not for lack of trying."

"An interesting tale." He paused to think, cleaning a glass absently. "The only Telvanni mage I know of is on the isle of Solstheim. He does know quite a bit about Dwemer ruins, he lives near a site in Tel Mithryn. Has a whole Telvanni style tower, all in a small holding. Sound like your man?"

Feeling hopeful but not wanting to get too excited she perked up, eyes lighting with interest. "That does sound like him, though I'm not sure why he would go to Solstheim. I suppose since we had both taken an interest in the Dwemer ruins there, he thought I might come there. What was the name of this mage?"

"I believe it was Neloth, one of the former masters of the house. He escaped some time during the Red Year, looking to explore the island or something along that line."

"Fantastic," she said glumly, voice dripping with sarcasm. "No, I'm not looking for Neloth, although I might go see him now that I know he is there. If nothing else I know he would be glad to have some blanks filled in on his research." She also owed him a good punch for disappearing during the Oblivion crisis. "No, I'm afraid he's not the one I'm looking for."

Malthyr, who had been silent until now, spoke up at that. "There are a few Dunmer that visit that outpost to the east, leaving offerings to the dead. It's been used as a message post for anyone looking to reunite with people they can't find for a long time. If nothing else you could try to leave a message there. Almost every Dunmer I know knows about that post. Anyone looking for someone should go there."

"An outpost?" she questioned, her horned brows raising higher. "They leave offerings at an outpost?"

"Not much else they could do. We didn't have the luxury of building ancestral tombs here, and most of the ones that already existed were torn apart by the eruption. They still had a proper burning, but the ashes were buried here in Skyrim, the land that was supposed to welcome us and take us in." He grunted with a sneer. "Well never mind that. They were buried here so everyone could have a place to visit them. If you follow the road east from here, you'll see it eventually. It's past the farms, but it's easy to spot from the road."

"Might as well give it a try." Even if Aryon had passed away after all, she at least had a place to offer her respects, no matter where he had ended up. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, but it was worth it to prepare for that possibility. "I don't suppose you have any ash yams, do you? I've heard it's customary to leave them as an offering for a Dunmer. Just in case... in case he has died."

Ambarys leaned over the bar, handing her an ash yam. "I do have a few from the last shipment. No charge. Never expected an Argonian to know our traditions, but I guess your friend was a good friend indeed. Just make sure and offer my respects as well. It's hard escaping this city as it is."

"Of course." She took it gratefully, considering whether she should tell him more. It had been a long time since she had had a chat with someone from Morrowind. "I was originally from Morrowind myself, so knowing your customs was something I had learned from the start. Honestly I don't know much about Black Marsh, living next to Dunmer and Imperials my whole life." Finishing off the last of the mazte, she rose from the tall stool, preparing to leave. "Thanks for the help." Leaving the bar with a small bit of hope, she walked through the cramped alley and left the obnoxious city, heading east along the road. With any luck she would make it by midday.

Cold wind beating at her back, she raised her hood to try and keep warm. Such a thing was hard at best in the high altitudes of this place but she had survived worse. Quaint farms, one owned by the former Hlaalu she had heard about, stretched out along the road. Snowberries grew everywhere, clustering into every crack in the cold earth and giving company to lone trees. In the distance lay an abandoned building, which she avoided out of habit. Places like that were always crawling with something and she didn't feel like bothering with it right now. She pushed onward, heading to the tower now appearing in the distance.

Aside from a pair of frost trolls attacking her the moment she came near, the outpost was everything she had expected. It was worn down, beaten up, and full of bones and random items. A rough stone wall outside lined a makeshift graveyard, each mound labeled with a simple wood post. Taking a moment to view the two stone structures serving as monuments at each end, she chose one at random and knelt to place the ash yam at the base. She wasn't the type to pray. Even though she had been helped by Azura in escaping, she had never prayed to the Daedric lord. Somehow she got the feeling that Azura didn't mind. Instead she stayed silent, simply offering her respect in her own way, listening to the wind as it drifted over the snow.

Every day she lingered there at the ruins. Days passed, then a week. She came without fail, staying the day and wandering to Kynesgrove at night. As each day passed it became more and more disappointing but it was her only hope and she clung to it ruthlessly. Today she sat and stared at the graves she had memorized, puffs of mist hovering about her as her warm breath hit the chilly air. Something strange was in that air, she could feel it. Something was different. With a small smile to herself she relished in the change, knowing her efforts hadn't been in vain. He had come after all.

* * *

He hadn't expected there to be someone else at the monument today. Most times few came by here, sometimes the occasional Dunmer, but seeing an Argonian was very strange indeed. Aryon had spent the last few years frequenting places in the east, keeping an eye out for any Argonians, anyone who might know where Laje-tal had gone to. No matter what curious looks he got as a result, he never stopped looking for the student-turned-master that had changed his life forever. At the beginning of his term in House Telvanni, he had known and understood the wants of the other masters to simply be left alone to their work, but he also understood the need for allies in perilous times. He had been desperate for any ally who could help him overturn the stagnation of the house, but the prospects had been poor. After Divayth Fyr turned down the offer to join forces with him, he had needed to make a very careful set of decisions.

To his surprise and amusement, Laje-tal had risen through the Telvanni ranks with ease. She was a natural mage and had little trouble with every task he had set before her. That she was an Argonian only made it all the more amusing to watch. When she had one day come back with a serious look on her face, having defeated Gothren in single combat, everything had changed. It wasn't funny anymore. They had made the most crucial maneuver in getting the house back on its feet. She had persuaded him to give her a false identity to take leadership from Gothren in her stead, knowing an Argonian leader would only make things worse, and he had accepted, passing their orders through very cautious messages.

Despite himself, he had grown a strange affection for his student. Though he had his misgivings at first, being what they were, they had always been of a similar mind, taking interest in the Dwemer ruins and architecture, researching the mysteries of the arcane. It hadn't been long before they developed a bond beyond that of mutual admiration and respect. Though the initial realization had happened due to the heat of the moment, it had become quite real in time. For a while, everything had gone on well enough all things considered, at least until that day everything had fallen apart.

It had to be her. He knew those markings on her tail, they were too distinct to be anyone else. At a loss for words, he shoved back his mage hood, approaching her quietly. She had sensed him by now, he knew. Finally regaining enough composure to laugh at his own ridiculous hesitation he came just a bit closer as she turned, startled by his sudden laughter. Rising to her feet quickly, she couldn't keep the amusement and shock out of her voice. "You see me for the first time in twenty five years and all you can do is laugh?"

Simply closing the gap and tugging her into a tight embrace, he nodded against her shoulder. "Glad to see you too," he muttered sarcastically, drawing back to look at her fully. Not surprisingly she hadn't changed much since he last saw her, though her clothing was different. "After I had to run all the way to Winterhold to avoid the fighting I thought I'd never find you again."

"Winterhold? Ah why did I not think of that place? It should have been the first place I had searched, what with the College there. I got pinned down south near Falkreath those long two years, I could hardly leave the mountains. I can't imagine why I didn't think to go towards Winterhold."

"It's better that you didn't," he said with a grimace. "The Nords in the area are especially nervous around mages, those in the college bar entry to anyone who isn't a mage. I had to hide even from mages!"

She grinned widely. "What, you didn't want to join their little club?"

"Hardly." Releasing her from their embrace, he looked out into the distance absently. "It's freezing out here. I don't know how they stand it."

To be honest, the cold was finally getting to her too. Glancing over, she looked at his strange clothing that she hadn't noticed before. It looked like an assortment of all sorts of things, layered for warmth all on top of a battered mage robe. Strange, how the years had brought back a nervous distance, neither of them quite sure what to do now that they found each other. Laje-tal pulled her cloak closer, shuddering in the chill, trying to initiate some sort of normal conversation. "I'm sure you don't want to end up in Windhelm any more than I do but there is a place in the city that has a few treasures you might be interested in."

He looked at her skeptically. "Oh? What sort of treasures could those Nords have?"

"Not Nords, other Dunmer. Mazte and sujamma straight from Solstheim, and a fair price too, considering. Oh, also apparently Neloth is still alive."

Aryon scoffed. "That old mudcrab is a permanent fixture, always knowing when to get out of the way. I had heard he moved to Solstheim but after that eruption it was hard to tell if anyone lived through it."

She smiled at that, seeing the Aryon she remembered under that travel-weary gaze."I really missed you."

Usually more reserved about their affections, he didn't hesitate to pull her back into his arms, giving her a chaste but meaningful kiss. "I missed you too, love." They both shuddered as a particularly cold blast of wind hit them. "I know I won't miss this cold. Let's get out of here." Bearing as much against the wind as they could, they headed towards Windhelm slowly.

Idly she wondered what sort of reception they would receive if they went to Solstheim to look up their... old friend. Neloth had always been an eccentric type, not really caring who or what got in his way as long as the end result was more answers for his research. He hadn't cared in the least about her involvement in the house, either, as long as everything continued as normal. Even now he probably wouldn't care if they came to visit, he would just go on as if nothing had ever happened and insist they help him test a new spell. It would be the first semblance of normalcy since the eruption.

Dusk had settled on Windhelm by the time they arrived, drenching everything in waning light. One of the first things they saw was the man she had punched senseless after he had accosted the Dunmer woman. It was enjoyable to see him avoid her with a wary gaze. Aryon eyed her suspiciously. "You sure do know how to charm the masses, don't you?"

"I always have," she remarked with a wry grin. "The Nords here won't like us much, and he was the worst of the bunch. I doubt they will bother us, though, after watching the alpha wolf run away with his tail between his legs."

He sighed an amused sigh, shaking his head helplessly. "You haven't changed one bit."

She only shrugged, leading the way down into the Gray Quarter. It was strange how this area of town felt more comfortable than the nice, well kept area on the western half of the city, but that was the funny thing about nostalgia. One would gladly wipe away the dust, knowing what lay underneath. They stopped outside the cornerclub and she turned to him, watching him look around. "It isn't much, I know, but everyone here has done the best they can to make it livable."

"All considered, they did well to do this much." Feeling the eyes of a guard on their backs, he followed right after her into the bar, escaping into the small haven. A few people were inside, having come down from the market or up from the docks, enjoying dinner and drinks after a long day. They somehow managed to grab the left corner table without being greeted, but it wasn't long before Malthyr came back into the bar with a full crate of drinks. As soon as he noticed them, he set the crate down near the bar, going over to greet them immediately.

Clearly Malthyr was hiding his amusement as he peered at each of them, settling on a grin. "Well now, what will it be for you two?"

Laje-tal waved him off with a clawed hand. "Mazte, of course."

"I just got another shipment from Raven Rock, they finally sent me some of the older brews we've been begging for. Some of those Nords might find their shipments missing a thing or two but you better believe everything we order comes to us all in however many pieces we requested. If the Argonians are right, I may even have some flin in there." He then turned to the stranger, still not sure how to handle a great wizard's presence here. Many Telvanni were known to be very particular, but a customer was a customer and if the man wanted a drink then he was going to get one. "And what can I get for you, sir? Your friend here mentioned something about you when she was last here but she left out the most important part! What sort of drink would suit your fancy?"

Aryon laughed lightly, sparing his companion a mischievous glance. "It would be just like my wife to leave out such a crucial detail. I'll gladly take a Cyrodiilic brandy if you have it."

"I just so happen to have a very fine year in the back, it's..." He halted, suddenly realizing what had just been said. "Your wife? She's your wife?" A few heads from the other side of the bar turned at his raised voice, eyebrows already threatening to twitch. Laje-tal hushed him with a warning glare.

"As much as I love him, I'd rather you not shout it loud enough for city of Whiterun to hear it. It's hard enough as it is." As quickly as she had retaliated, though, she sighed, giving up the argument. "Never mind, it was bound to happen anyway."

If they hadn't been so serious he wouldn't have believed it. Argonians and Dunmer had been mortal enemies since the first skirmish, and though some real friendships had been forged between individuals, especially in an environment that forced them to coexist, even those strong bonds were regularly strained by the tensions between their races. Marriage, especially one formed out of love, was another matter entirely. Both races took such a thing very seriously. Still, this war and many others had created many far stranger things, so he didn't question it further. "No worries, nobody here will tell the people that have no business knowing. I'll grab your drinks, Ambarys should be back soon with more. Gotta have plenty for the evening rush."

As soon as he was out of earshot, Laje-tal turned back to Aryon, keeping her voice low. "We never were very good at keeping too many secrets, were we?"

He merely shook his head. "It just doesn't seem to matter as much as it used to." With a sigh, he leaned back, trying to get comfortable. "At least here we have people we know."

"Right, it wasn't so easy in Markarth," she said with a groan. "Every so often we would have to move so they wouldn't catch on that I wasn't aging. You, we could explain easily, but Argonians are lucky if they make it past one hundred, and twice that is impossible. So many things have happened, it feels like such a long time ago, but I'm the same as I was that day in Ilunibi."

Knowing she still had mixed feelings about her immortality, he reassured her just the way he had always done. "I got it too, you know." He gestured to his covered left arm where some of his skin was still blemished from catching corprus disease from her. "Even Divayth wasn't sure his potion would work, but it is what it is. All he could do was stop the ill effects, and we were lucky for that much." Suddenly changing the topic, not wanting to think about what had bothered them both since they realized their fate, he tried smiling against their troubles. "What have you been doing for the last twenty five years out there?"

She knew a dodge when she heard it but they hadn't lasted this long by arguing. It would come up another time and they would think about it when it came. They had the time. "Hiding, mostly. I did what I could to stay in the thick of Imperial territory whenever possible but they had their own troubles too. They were fighting the Forsworn as much as anyone else, it was all a long, bloody mess. I stayed near Falkreath for most of the war, moving east all the way to Ivarstead. After that, I looked for you. I had no idea what had happened to you."

"It's quite a tale," he said with a grim smile. "I tried to stay near Markarth but there were too many Forsworn everywhere and they pushed out in any direction they could, scattering forces everywhere. It was brilliant, really. They weren't as numerous as the armies they eventually were defeated by so they used scatter tactics to break any formations they came across. I had a hard time staying in the cities, and once I heard about the statue of Azura, I figured I would be better off in the wilderness. From time to time I would go out to the outpost, seeing if there were any names I recognized. There are a few we know here."

"That's good." For many years they had been unsure of what had happened to those they hadn't brought along with them. In the chaos it had been impossible to tell, but now more and more details were becoming clearer as they looked into it. "Any word of what became of that ship of yours?"

"The Pride of Tel Vos? I still don't know why they insisted on calling it that." Frowning, he shifted slightly. "I heard a Dunmer down in Riften is looking for the wreck. Ran aground up north. I haven't had time to look into it yet but it's good to know at least someone survived. Still, I left that blasted thing with my best sailors to get as many out as they could. It must have been some storm."

"Damn." She shared her own frown, gripping the hilt of the sword at her hip reflexively. "Many of those slaves I freed from the other Telvanni were on that ship. Well, we can't really know they didn't survive. There might have been a few."

"I hope so." They quieted down when Malthyr came by with their drinks, but started up again as soon as he left. Aryon looked at her one gloved hand, knowing what was there. Nerevar's ring, the one thing she had never wanted to part with. It was one of only a few things they still had from their time in Morrowind, all the rest gone to the corners of the world. "You still have it." It wasn't a question, and he knew she understood what he meant.

She nodded. "A few of the gifts the ashlanders gave me survived the raid. Luckily they preferred smaller things. I had an easier time rescuing them." From her small pack she took out a star shaped amulet known as the teeth of the Urshilaku, passing it over to him. "Remember this?"

"I haven't seen this one in a while. It was in that old display case if I remember right."

"They and the Zainab were so understanding with me in spite of everything. I don't think they wanted an Argonian to play the part any more than anyone else did, but they gave me the fairness of a chance." Stashing away the amulet she finally had some of her mazte, stopping the line of conversation now that more people had come in after finishing up at the docks. Sometimes she wished she could tell someone besides Aryon about all of the things she had been through, that they had both been through, but the few she had confided in before were probably dead. Maybe a couple Dunmer still knew her but it was a matter of finding them. Even then their conversations would have to be just like this; hushed, secretive and rarely mentioned again.

Aryon watched her more closely, having an idea what she was thinking about. He never knew how he had come to understand her so clearly and she understood him in return, but love was strange like that. From the beginning he knew how hard it was to keep everything hidden like they did, but he knew it was for their own safety. After being attacked by the Dark Brotherhood, it had been a harsh wakeup call in more ways than one. As powerful as they were, even after taking the fight to the Dark Brotherhood face to face, they knew they had to change what they were doing. The eruption of Red Mountain hadn't been only a tragedy, it had also been a liberation. In the aftermath they disappeared, spreading false rumors and going in the opposite direction they had been advertised going. It had been a lifetime or two of running. "I'm tired of running too."

Glad for his perception despite the years they spent apart she nodded, feeling the weight of it heavily as she did so. "I'm very tired of it. I don't want to run anymore."

Ignoring their usual agreement to not show affection in public he laid his right hand over her gloved one, firm enough to feel the moon and star ring dig into his palm. "Maybe we don't have to anymore. The Dark Brotherhood is in shambles now, most disputes are settled with small bands of hired muscle and the like, if not by single combat alone. Imperials and Stormcloaks have their armies but they are too busy killing each other to worry about us."

"The Thalmor, though..."

"Too busy protecting their interests. They might be mildly interested in us at first but I know we would make it not worth their time to be too interested. You defeated _him_, after all. What would they really do even if they knew everything?" Taking in her startled expression he smiled slightly. "I have considered this, after watching all of the happenings around here. A few of the visitors of the shrine to Azura know who I really am, and nothing has happened so far. With all of the current troubles we would probably get no more attention than Neloth does."

"Maybe." She didn't withdraw her hand but she still distanced herself with a distracted glance."It would still be risky."

"And everything we have done until now wasn't?" Feeling more powered by his reason he grew more excited by the idea. "What are a bunch of Nords after the Sixth House? After the accession war? The Oblivion crisis? The eruption? It's nothing!"

Taken back by his courage she reassessed her stance on their situation. Maybe after everything, this was just a small rock on top of a pile of many bigger rocks. With a smile she recalled an Argonian proverb a former slave had told her. "The shifting rock makes way for the trees."

"That it does, sometimes a bit too well! Nothing like a hundred roots growing into your dungeon to remind you of that."

Remembering the state of the underground portion of Tel Vos brought a small chuckle out of her. "Yes, this time around you would know to build the house first, then the dungeon."

It had been a sarcastic remark but he took a moment to really consider it. "I wonder how the Nords would like a Telvanni stronghold out in their mountains."

That earned him a peculiar look. "I do hope you're joking."

"Well why not? I'm sure someone has land for sale somewhere. Those mushrooms are very hardy, they could easily withstand even the winters here. Once they realized what was going on it would be too late. Besides, if the land was owned legally, they wouldn't have any say in how that land was used anyway. The Nords are nothing if not honorable about their trades and sales."

She considered it seriously now, knowing he would give her all the time she needed to think. In all honesty she liked the idea of going back to something similar to what they had before, never mind the danger. Still, there was one more thing bothering her. "I'm just worried that the Nords would take a Telvanni structure as a direct threat and turn their attentions to Morrowind. They are already suffering so badly they wouldn't stand a chance, even with House Redoran watching them."

"I don't think they would. Telvanni are known for keeping to their own affairs and not meddling around. They would complain for a while but once they saw nothing was happening, they would let us be and go back to the Imperials. If this war has done anything good at all it has made it easier to move around and avoid unwanted attention."

"Let's just think about it for a while." Taking back her hand she tugged off her glove, revealing the moon and star. "For now, I'll just let this go. If someone recognizes me, they recognize me. If not, that's alright too. I won't be afraid of myself anymore."

He shot her a small smile. "It's a good start." They were halfway through their jugs and with only a glance at each other they traded drinks, pouring the different beverage into their cups. It was something they had done at many taverns before, usually getting bored with the same thing halfway through. Once they noticed what they had unconsciously done despite the years of separation they shared an amused grin, going back to enjoying the evening hours quietly.

In the other corner of the bar an Argonian man had been watching, his friend at the table trying to keep him from doing so. Neetranza and Shahvee had been sharing the usual sort of conversation, nothing out of the ordinary until the Dunmer and Argonian woman had come in together. It wouldn't have seemed strange except that they sat at the same table, sharing the sorts of glances that definitely went beyond the standard friendly type some of the Dunmer here shared with the dock workers. No, the Dunmer and Argonians around here got along like a wet cat and dog caught under the same cave in a rainstorm.

"Stop staring, Neetranza. You know you wouldn't want the same for yourself."

Neetranza turned to Shahvee, letting out an unrepentant grunt. "Well, they're asking for it."

"It doesn't matter. Life is hard enough for it as it is without complicating it with gossip and nonsense."

"No thanks to your Zenithar." Recoiling at her harsh glare he backed off a little. Very little. "Alright, never mind that. Never mind our clan traditions, our ways of living. Never mind any of it."

She frowned sharply. "You're miserable company. I would bet they are far more interesting than you are."

He simply dismissed her with a flip of his hand. "If I'm so miserable and they're so interesting why don't you go join them?"

"Now that is a fine idea indeed!" Rising from her chair with haughty energy, her tail flicking around behind her, she shoved in her chair, going over to the other side of the bar. She missed Neetranza's wide-eyed look as she sat down at the table, startling the two companions already there. Offering them an apologetic grin she gestured over her shoulder discreetly. "I don't mean to bother you but I had to show scales-for-brains over there that elves and Argonians can be perfectly civil with each other. He has been trying to crawl under my hide all day."

Across from her Laje-tal looked at her with confused recognition. "Shahvee?"

Blinking, Shahvee leaned closer. "Ah, I remember you now! Yes, we met once before in Whiterun, right? Or maybe it was near there? Right, during the years after the Forsworn caused such a mess. I had saved up enough to make a trip there for some herbs I couldn't find here." She spared a glance at her Dunmer companion. "Well, I assume this is the one you were looking for? Your... friend?"

Even after knowing her for a short time, Laje-tal knew she could trust Shahvee. The other woman had been nothing but understanding no matter what life threw at her. It was one of the few times she corrected someone without hesitation. "No, my husband. Did you find the herbs you needed?"

"For the most part. I'm afraid they needed the lavender more than I did with the war going on." Looking at her friend's revealed husband in earnest now she gave him a wide smile, accepting him just as easily as anyone else. "Don't mind what anyone else says, you're welcome in Windhelm whenever you like. Shahvee will always be glad to have company."

Aryon seemed rather puzzled as she extended her hand but he recovered quickly enough, taking it in a brief greeting. "A pleasure. I'm Aryon, but maybe she told you that. I'm not sure what sorts of peculiar slanders my wife has been spreading about so let me know if she left anything good out."

Next to him Laje-tal only shook her head, throwing her hands up in defeat. "I'm sure after these many years I have enough to slander you from here to Black Marsh, I certainly left a good bit of it out."

The conversations in the bar turned lighter, everyone relaxed and enjoying themselves. As the evening waned and night approached they finally left the bar, considering where to spend the night. Candlehearth Hall was the only inn in Windhelm, and it wasn't quiet about not being welcoming to their type. At a loss they decided to travel outside the city into Kynesgrove. Cold and windy as it was, the skies were clear, the constellations glowing with perfect clarity. It had a harsh beauty, one they had appreciated during even the coldest nights in Markath. A night like this brought back pleasant memories of taking that old, battered telescope up to the heights of the mountains, mapping out the constellations until they were nearly frozen.

"A fair night like this shouldn't be wasted," Aryon suddenly said, gesturing to the sky. "There, the serpent, chasing the other signs."

They watched and discussed the stars as they walked to Kynesgrove, not caring how slow their pace might be. Talk soon went to the mysteries of the Dwemer, as it often did, along with the three books she had found on her journey to kill Dagoth Ur. One book had been found to just be an ordinary guide but the other two had raised dozens of unanswered questions. She still had them, another of the few things she simply had to save, even if they weren't much use. When they reached the inn at Kynesgrove they hadn't made much progress on their many questions but that wasn't quite what they set out to accomplish. Instead they had fallen back into the familiar, the things they missed, the things that might never be known but were still enthralling. It was almost as if those years apart had dissolved into nothing.

Everything in the inn was much the same as the night before, the locals going about their talk and biding the last few moments until they slept. The innkeeper was glad to see Laje-tal again, especially after seeing that she had succeeded in her quest to find Aryon. She hadn't even flinched when they asked for a double room, simply getting them what they asked for. It was a great relief to rest, to really and truly recover from their ordeals. There hadn't been anything else to say, not after already saying so much, so they simply took advantage of as long a sleep as they could. They couldn't know what the morning would surprise them with.


	3. Chapter 3

Waking up to a loud roar wasn't exactly what they had hoped to wake to, but strange circumstances like this had become a way of life. They had dressed hastily and come out to stare at the sky just as everyone else did, watching as a large black dragon winged through the clouds. Granted, they had both been around a long time but one thing they had certainly never seen was a dragon and yet here it was, a large inky blot against the sky. Surprisingly it didn't attack, flying away in a straight line on some unknown goal. One of the bystanders pointed in the direction it came from, distressed.

"It came from the direction of Riverwood and Helgen! What could it mean?"

Laje-tal sighed, giving Aryon a significant look. "Somehow these things always find us, don't they?"

With a chuckle he only nodded ruefully. "I suppose it serves us right for complaining of boredom in the past. I guess we had better get on with it then, I do love a good new mystery to solve."

"Let's start in Riverwood, someone has to have at least seen something." As soon as they checked their supplies and restocked on the few things they needed, they started down the road north to Windhelm, intending to go west past the bridge and then southwest towards Whiterun. The trail through the Windhelm region was long and cold, filled with the peaceful quiet of the snowy woods. It was soon pierced by the howl of wolves and roars of the occasional bear, but whenever they were attacked the fights never lasted long. Once the road turned to the south, the weather improved gradually as they came out of the cold front moving inland. Hilly terrain filled with trees as far as the eye could see, and they knew it was stuffed with even more bears, sabre cats and giants with their mammoths.

The wars hadn't been kind to anyone, and their funds were running low. With any luck they would run across a deer or elk inattentive enough to be taken down with her bow. They would sell the bear pelts they had come across, but the bears weren't much for eating. The path was rough as it always was, the journey long and filled with animal attacks and having to intimidate bandits, but they reached Whiterun before dusk. Even around dusk the activity in the city was just as busy as ever, people coming and going through the shops and stalls of the markets, wandering the streets on errands. Their goal was the Bannered Mare, a prime place for all manner of information gathering.

The evening went about as expected. Rumors abounded about the mysterious dragon, but all agreed that it had come from further south in Helgen or Riverwood. Near that area was a well-known barrow, as well as other landmarks such as the guardian stones. Word of the Stormcloak rebellion was also thick in the air, but it had been so since the war started. A good hour or two passed as they gathered information while bartering and getting food and drink. Aryon all but rolled his eyes when Laje-tal started a brawl with a Nord woman out of boredom, both of them clearly enjoying the even battle. Mages they might be, but the Argonian had taken an equal interest in swordplay, archery and unarmed combat, leftovers from her Imperial upbringing – or maybe she just enjoyed punching the daylights out of everyone.

By the time they had finished the night had come more in earnest, the last rays of light glowing over Dragonsreach dimly. Having exhausted their need for more information, they took a look around the city, especially interested in the differing types of smithing work found here. Despite their interest in the new materials and techniques, it was still dull and before long they were both itching to find a practice arena. If there were dragons about they would need to be sharper than they were around the common bandits and wild animals, and it had been too long since they tested the true limits of their skills.

"You haven't gotten soft in all these years have you, Aryon?" Laje-tal grinned at him, brandishing her weapon teasingly. "I doubt you've spent all of that time praying to Azura."

"Not a chance." They had just arrived at the practice field behind the guild of the Companions, the area clear of bystanders. He drew his own sword, both blades a high quality Daedric make. "I think you will find I've learned a thing or two, and you had better watch that tail of yours."

"If you trip on it again it is your own fault for not watching it yourself. You know an Argonian's tail is as much a weapon as their claws." Almost as if in demonstration, her tail lashed behind her menacingly, entirely whiplike with a mind of its own. Her charge came suddenly but he was ready for it, blocking and executing a parry but getting blocked in return. They hadn't started off on the same level, Aryon being more of a mage and herself a dabbler in many things, but they had practiced like this many times over the long years, getting better and better until they were evenly matched. Neither could get the upper ground, even their new techniques too easy for the other to see through. It was the perfect stalemate.

The clash of blades had drawn a few spectators, some offering encouragements from the sidelines. Aryon dodged the tail coming straight at his head as she parried his blow and spun, knowing he would dodge the hit. She followed with a chain of successive strikes, finally jarring his blade enough to deaden the feeling in his hand. It was just enough to knock the blade from his hand, ending the fight. Taking his blade with a small bit of chagrin, shaking out his hand to get the feeling back in it, he turned a wry smirk on his wife. "Still can't quite get used to your strength, you must have been trying out warhammers."

"From time to time," she admitted. "It looks like we have a bit of a crowd."

He now turned his eyes to the spectators, most of them members of the Companions. They all exchanged a few words, jibes and advice before a new duo took to the training field, a Dunmer and one of the Nords. As dark as it was getting this would probably be the last spar, but everyone took places at the tables readily enough to watch it. These two weren't quite as skilled, naturally, but that was the purpose of a practice bout anyway. The fight intensified and both picked up speed as they eased into the familiarity of the traded blows. Before long the Dunmer was somewhat cornered, and in his desperation he said something that made Laje-tal cringe. Hard. "Nerevar guide me!"

Aryon turned to look at her slowly, eyes glowing with a hidden intense amusement. "Did you hear that? I think you had better go help him."

She glowered at him, not the least bit amused. "I'm not doing anything."

"He did ask for your help, though, and he asked it so nicely." Silently she cursed that smirk, the one that made her want to do the strange things he suggested she might do. Curse it. "Really, he could use it, his pose is all wrong."

Taking a look at the Dunmer she could see just as clearly that his pose was indeed wrong, the angle was too weak and he was just asking for a sword to the ribs. With a sigh she conceded to the suggestion, going over to the Dunmer to correct his pose. He was clearly surprised to see her approaching, and definitely not sure how to take help from an Argonian, but he had surely experienced his own issues with acceptance and he settled with being grateful for help from a superior swordfighter. "Hold the blade down like this. No, this. Guard your side, but don't keep it too high, you'll expose your legs too much."

Maintaining a sullen expression through her instruction he did what she suggested, albeit reluctantly. "I didn't ask for your help, you know."

Giving him a somewhat sardonic glance, she tilted her hand on his blade enough for him to see the moon and star. If she was to start revealing herself, this was as fine a place to begin as any. "Oh but you did. Now you have it. Take it or leave it, but don't ask for my help if you don't want it." Leaving him dumbfounded and wide eyed, she returned to stand in front of the seated Aryon, glaring at him half-heartedly. "Satisfied?"

Aryon only smiled, quite satisfied indeed. "Very, though I think you left him more in shock than educated. You really need to work on your speechcraft." Warding off her following frown he couldn't help but laugh. It had been too many years that he hadn't been able to laugh like this, and yet in this day alone he remembered how to again. Her eyes softened at his enjoyment, but it didn't stop her from looking at him expectantly. "Alright, alright, let's get out of here while we can. Yes, I knew what you were going to say, don't look surprised. I'm ready when you are."

Only managing a groan at his nonsense, she offered her hand to help him up. Once he took it and she pulled him to his feet, she spared a glance back at the Dunmer she had helped, still at a loss. "Let's go then, Aryon. We've done quite enough for one day." She didn't pull her hand back from their grip, allowing it as they walked back down the street towards the inn. It was a small concession, just as her revealing herself to the Dunmer, but she promised herself to take more small steps toward accepting the fact that they couldn't hide forever. There was no need to, and she realized it now. Come Dark Brotherhood, vampire assassins, bandits and mage lords, she was determined that none of it would drive them apart again. They would face this and everything else just as they had faced a thousand daedra.

* * *

Riverwood had been a dead end. The dragon had come from Helgen after all, so their journey stretched out further southwest, into the town that still burned. Though the fires had turned into smoldering flames, it was quite clear that the dragon had laid waste to it thoroughly. Little evidence of anything was left, and the only survivor they had found was an Imperial in a passage of caves nearby. They had managed to heal him enough to get him out of the caves, taking him back into Riverwood, but everything they picked up from it all was that they needed to go to Whiterun. Again. Still, Riverwood demanded extra guards on duty in light of there being dragons around, so here they were in Whiterun. Again.

The Jarl had taken the news of dragons about as well as expected. He had panicked, as was sane, and so had everyone else. To his credit he recovered just as quickly, issuing the extra guards immediately, looking into any and all information about them with an efficiency that even the two Telvanni could appreciate. Once when they lost the Jarl's attention, Aryon had said as much to her quietly. "I recall that Symmachus admired the human races for being pragmatic and resourceful, and rightfully so."

"I remember Barenziah saying much the same."

He remembered her sharing a few stories about the queen mother before. "Ah, that's right, you worked for her for a while, didn't you?"

"I was in her guard caravan for a long time after I left the Imperials, and then of course I saw her again during that mess with the Dark Brotherhood. She remembered me, and I guess you could have called us friends, but I don't know what happened to her after I sent on warning about Vvardenfell."

"Hopefully someone had the sense to send her on to Blacklight, but who knows."

In the corner, the housecarl Irileth had been watching him, but it was the mention of Blacklight that drew her attention back to them. Her eyes narrowed distrustfully as she moved close enough to them to speak. "And what exactly do you two intend to do here in Skyrim? A Dunmer, an Argonian... I wondered to myself what you might be plotting, but maybe it's just my old war senses getting to me again."

Taking the woman's sarcastic tone as lightly as possible, Laje-tal only shrugged. "We just came to investigate the troubles with the dragon. I could ask the same of you, Dunmer housecarl."

Irileth smirked at that, finally loosening her hard stare. "I suppose it is a hard thing to explain how someone like myself came to be in service of a Nord, but we knew each other and fought side by side. Sometimes a few good battles is all it takes to make a fast friend."

Sparing Aryon an amused look, she grinned her agreement. "That is hard to explain indeed. I suppose you'll be needing help with the dragons? Do you have anyone to spare?"

"Yes, my men are always at the ready. Still, I wouldn't refuse any small help you might give us."

The Jarl finally turned away from his steward, addressing all of them. "Dragons haven't been to this land since the first ages of man. Farengar has been doing research on these dragons in the past, he might at least know something more about what to do with them. If you have the time..."

Laje-tal sighed to herself, having the feeling she was being thrust into yet another adventure. Strangely it didn't bother her as much as she expected. "I did find a strange stone in one of the barrows nearby. There was also an odd wall filled with a language I didn't recognize, and yet..." She remembered how the wall had almost spoken to her, had put a thought into her like a word. Although she didn't understand it, she knew now it had to have been important somehow. "Never mind. Where is he?"

They were directed to the side of the castle where the mage lingered near a map, giving him the stone she had found in the barrow. He seemed pleased that she had it, having been looking for the thing already, but they had hardly gotten through the basics before a guard came running into the hold, shouting something about dragons. A watch tower nearby was under attack by a dragon, and it was unknown how the others were faring. Everything went by in a blur as Irileth gathered up her own guards, mustering the reinforcements quickly while the Jarl and his steward went over plans to defend the city if needed. To Laje-tal and Aryon, it felt like the Oblivion crisis all over again.

"We can't let this happen again," Laje-tal muttered to Aryon as they charged out into the field.

"We won't." Looking out at the stream of smoke that poured from the tower, his eyes narrowed at the memory of the fires that had burned in Vvardenfell. "After all those damned Oblivion gates, one dragon will be alright."

"There is that, at least." Nearby Irileth was giving them an even odder look, but luckily their goal and the chaos surrounding it was plenty enough of a distraction to leave it for later. Soon enough the dragon descended in the sky, its roar cutting loudly through the air. Smoke and fire inhibited their aim as it circled and dove, breathing fire in every direction. It would hover from time to time, but it was hard to get a clear shot even with a bow.

Suddenly the dragon dove deeper to bite at its foes, and Aryon pointed at the angle as she watched with him. "It's headed this way, let's get you up there." As soon as she nodded they watched the timing of the dragon's swooping circle, and once it neared Aryon hoisted her high enough to grip the dragon's neck ridge, climbing onto the back precariously.

Charging deep toward the ground, the dragon tried to dislodge her, roaring its defiance angrily. Her tail wrapped around the neck spike behind her, her hands focused on wielding her sword and hanging on to one of the large horns sprouting from its head. The beast pitched and rolled but it couldn't get rid of the thorn in its side, and with one quick lunge she struck a blow to the head, or at least she hoped. It was enough to stun the dragon enough for her to wrench hard on the horn she was gripping, steering him to the right and into Aryon's range. A very precise bolt of lightning struck one of the dragon's eyes, blinding it and sending it careening into the ground at long last.

On the ground, Aryon kept striking out with magic, taking out his blade once he was within range. The guards nearby closed in as well, trying to get in whatever hits they could while the dragon thrashed wildly. It was quickly plain that they couldn't close in with their swords, it was too dangerous when they were dodging flailing wings and sharp spikes. Laje-tal saw the problem, but she wasn't sure if the solution would work. It was worth a try. "Aryon, paralyze it!"

"You've got to be insane! That huge thing?" Still he tried with as much power he could muster to at least hold the dragon's head in the grip of his spell, though it was hard to do even that. Luckily it was sufficient, and Laje-tal managed to bloody the dragon enough to break its resistances, delivering the final blow through the eye socket. Her blade exited with a sickening crunch, dripping blood everywhere as she approached Aryon, out of breath.

"That wasn't so bad, now was it?"

He ran up to her, assessing the damage to both her and the dragon. "You really are insane." A wide grin spread across his face despite the blood and gore they were covered in, the burning fires and heavy smoke falling into the background. "I always did like that about you."

Returning his grin with her own, she finally realized how filthy she had become. She tried to shake off what she could, the blood and bits of skin and flesh sticking to her. "Alright, maybe I overdid it a little." A large glob of congealed blood oozed to the ground, and she grunted with disgust. Just as everyone was crowding around the dragon, something strange happened to the corpse. It started to glow, flaking away the outer hide of the body, revealing the bones underneath. All of it shed away to nothing, a burning light surging towards her. Startled, she shielded her face, but the air wasn't hot at all, simply aglow with a mysterious light. The light surrounded her, rejuvenating her energy, curling around her hands as she watched it flow towards and out of her.

Everyone near her backed away, even Aryon, not sure what was happening. Aryon recovered more quickly, going to her side as soon as the light began to die down. "Are you alright? What happened?"

She was still taking in the strange feeling, the word from the wall in the barrow suddenly returning to her thoughts. It was like she understood the meaning of it completely without ever learning anything about it. "It all makes sense now. That word I saw on the wall, it's like something from the dragon taught me what it was."

One of the Nord guards approached her warily, awed but sounding certain about what he had seen. "You must be Dragonborn! You absorbed the soul of that dragon!"

Strangely it sounded right. Deep down she knew it, but she didn't want to. "Dragonborn?"

"If you're Dragonborn you can shout. You learned it, right? From the dragon? It's said the Dragonborn tears the souls right from them, learning their powers!"

Everything he said about it was something she could feel now, the word returning to her mind. It resonated in the same place she drew magic from, and without understanding what she was doing, she let it explode in a surge of force. "Fus!" Grass and smoke in front of her burst apart, stronger shrubs bearing back under the burst of air that charged out of her. Shocked by the outburst she drew back, staggering from the surprise. For the first time in her life she was truly afraid of what she had just done, what she was capable of doing. It had been a long time since she had felt real fear.

"You shouted! It's true, you're Dragonborn!"

Luckily Irileth could always be trusted to defuse the situation. "What a bunch of nonsense."

The guard wasn't swayed by her blank tone. "It's part of our traditions! You're not a Nord, you wouldn't understand it."

She was no less jaded by the sight, and she gestured out across the ground. "I've seen all kinds of stranger things than this. What I see now is a dead dragon, and a dead dragon means a safer Whiterun. They can be killed, and that's all we need to worry about now."

Seeing Laje-tal's distress, Aryon came to her while the others were distracted, gripping her shoulders firmly. "Are you alright?" She didn't respond and he could feel her shuddering, her eyes somewhat glazed over and breath coming in short bursts. In all their time together he had never seen her quite like this, and he found himself at a loss for what to do. Every time they met battle, she was the most confident, charging into the fray without fear. No, it wasn't the fight. It was this new power of hers, and she was afraid of it. He remembered the first time he had created magic, the flames bursting from him and frightening him beyond reason. Still, magic could be controlled, and so could this. Taking her into a tight embrace despite her protests, ignoring the filth and blood still dripping from her robes, he just kept her there, willing the tremors to go away. "No, I'm not going to be afraid of this. You have mastered every kind of magic I've ever had to teach you, this is just one more thing to master. I know you can control it once you learn how."

His calm, resolute tone broke her from her stupor, bringing her back into the calm focus she remembered during all of their lessons. Taking a deep breath, she channeled her fear out, letting it become only energy to keep her going. "Right. It's just another spell."

"A spell with words attached to it. Remember what happened when you were learning the master destruction spells?"

Oh she remembered alright. That had been a disaster. "Your tower never did look quite the same after that, no matter how I tried to regrow it."

He grimaced at the memory. "Maybe not, but we fixed most of it. That, and you learned those spells. I never thought you would master them so quickly, but maybe it all makes sense now. If you are Dragonborn, maybe that's why you're so inclined towards magic."

"Maybe." Finally she laughed, the mood lightening. "Hortator, Nerevarine and Dragonborn? Prophecy seems to follow me around like my own tail."

"And you have a fine tail." Dodging her playful swat he saw she was finally back, the confident light back in her eyes. "You do! I think we owe the Jarl a report, though, at least. It isn't like we'll have to report to the likes of Gothren."

She shuddered when she heard that name. "Yes, now let's never mention his name again. I've heard enough of it for two lifetimes." With only a hint of trepidation they both headed towards the city, not sure what to do next.

Nearby Irileth had had about enough of letting her growing questions go unanswered so she approached them, pointing at Aryon sharply. "I knew there was something odd about you two. I remember you now, Telvanni mage! You were there, during the Oblivion crisis! It may have been two hundred years ago but I remember you!" She turned her eyes now to Laje-tal, pointing at her too. "I don't know why I remember you, though. It was before your time."

Laje-tal sighed. It had to happen sooner or later, they were bound to find someone they knew. "You aren't mistaken, I was there. Now that I think of it, I remember you too. You were evacuating Sadrith Mora after one of the rocks from the mountain crashed into Tel Naga. We got most of them out to whatever boats we could, and the rest were helped by the Mages Guild. Did that friend of yours make it?"

"Nirasa? No." Letting out a harsh huff, she shook her head in bemusement. "That must mean you're the mysterious Arch-Magister everyone was going on about before then. It had been rumored for some time that an Argonian was in the upper ranks, but I couldn't believe it myself. The Telvanni had always enslaved your kind, considering them little more than animals. It simply didn't make much sense." Now her look grew a bit more curious. "You don't look to be that old either. If I remember right, Argonians can't live that long."

"No." Showing the Dunmer her ring, she saw the woman's eyes narrow. "Being relieved of corprus disease during the trials had the interesting side effect of making us immortal. Now you see why we had to keep things quiet. We were so close, too." She frowned at the memories suddenly returning. "Although I didn't know how to be an Argonian, having grown up around Dunmer and Imperials, I still saw how they suffered. It's true they kept my people as slaves, but near the end, we had just begun to make slavery unfashionable. I couldn't have just risen in the house and declared it illegal, they would have had my head in an instant. We spread rumors that the other councilors couldn't afford to keep paid workers, that slaves were unreliable and couldn't be trusted. After sneaking in and freeing as many as I could, it became a solid argument. Now, though..." She threw her hands up helplessly.

"Now you're here."

"Now I'm here." She found herself grinning in spite of it all, laughing at how ridiculous it was. "I didn't think you would take this so well."

Irileth shrugged casually. "As I said, I've seen some strange things in my travels. It doesn't matter, though." Giving the Argonian a hard but meaningful stare, she spoke her mind plainly. "Whoever you are, whoever you were, you are here and you can kill these dragons. Don't think too hard on the future, you will be there soon enough."

"Vivec was fond of that saying."

Aryon hummed thoughtfully, remembering the dead poet himself. "Great ideas, not so great at trying to be a god."

Irileth stopped them with a small gesture of her hand. "We're close to the city. I may not care what you talk about, but I've learned the Nords don't like us remembering things that they don't. I suppose our long lives bother them. You're to come report to the Jarl with us, and I expect you to tell the truth, not your idea of it."

So it was that they came to Dragonsreach, though on the way they and everyone else within a several mile radius heard a particularly loud shout come from the great mountain at the throat of the world. The Jarl had gone on about the Greybeards and who they were, but it offered little interest to his visitors. What had taken their attention, though, was that for their great deeds for his hold, he offered them permission to buy property in his hold if they so desired. That offer had come as a bit of a shock, even if they didn't intend to make use of it. Later, as they left Whiterun for the wilds and hopefully some peace and quiet, Aryon brought up the incident, ever curious.

"Perhaps all of this business could come of use to us," he mused, walking beside her as they headed in a southern direction. "It sounded like that Dragonborn was something of a Nord hero. If you really are that, then the Nords would have even less of a reason to come after us."

Laje-tal turned to walk backwards for a moment, her horned brows furrowed sharply. "But more reason for the Thalmor to hunt me down. Not only that, but the Imperials would also see me as a threat if I so much as lift a finger to help the Nords. I don't want to get involved in this war of theirs, but they wouldn't know that, and the Dragonborn would be a significant piece in tipping the balance one way or the other. If anything my situation is more precarious than before. Then, if I revealed the rest of what I am, I can't imagine how many power struggles I would get involved in."

"We," he corrected gently. "It would be both our troubles."

"All the more reason to consider this more carefully before it goes too far."

"There's no helping it now. We already revealed ourselves before all of this came about, and then there was Irileth. I doubt she would say much to anyone else, but the others..." Crossing his arms as he thought about their conundrum he hummed with discontent. "Well, too late now. Maybe you should go ahead with this Dragonborn prophecy, see where it leads. If nothing else, it will make them forget that you are Nerevar incarnate."

She huffed a sharp laugh at that. "Perhaps so." Looking down and considering Nerevar's ring as she often did, she found herself thinking aloud. "I think I know now what happened. His soul crossed the Hist, and came into its being. Argonian souls do not die, they are taken into the Hist and remade again and again. Somehow he crossed into the Hist and became myself. Do you suppose that is why I feel so much more a Dunmer?"

"You are not a Dunmer," he reminded her firmly. "You are Laje-tal, not Lenassa Tenavvi."

That name she had used on official documents from House Telvanni reminded her of that ingenious scheme and she found herself smirking at the memory. Still, he was right. "No, I'm not Lenassa. I'm not Nerevar, either, or at least not consciously. I'm not quite sure what I am sometimes. I am still just myself."

This had been something that had been going on for years, but for once he suggested something he hadn't really brought up before. Maybe he had been a bit selfish with their attachment, but now he knew what needed to be done. "You should spend more time with other Argonians."

That made her stop in her tracks. "What? I can't, they couldn't possibly comprehend me any more than I could comprehend them."

"You wouldn't have to be like them, just understand your own history." Unconsciously he had slipped back into the role of her teacher, but as her husband he had to be more thorough. "When I first understood that you were going to last in House Telvanni, I studied as much as I could about the Argonian culture so I might understand you. For such a long time Dunmer had given no thought to what we called the beast folk, fighting them when necessary and enslaving them whenever we could. You and I have done as much in our time here in Skyrim to study these Nords, so we might live next to them without doing something that might provoke them. I've had to become a different person as much as you have, and I know that can be a hard thing to do, but being ignorant of what you are isn't the same as not knowing who you are."

Despite herself the frustration that had been building in her dissipated, leaving behind his simple logic. Somehow he always had that effect on her. "Sometimes I wonder how you know everything about me."

"It's more that I accepted that I can't know everything." His smile cut through her gloom, giving both of them some much needed encouragement. "There will always be places you go that I can't follow, just as there are places that I go where you can't. We are very similar, but we are also very different. I'm satisfied with leaving it that way."

It had been what she needed to hear. Maybe she wasn't any sort of Argonian or Dunmer, but everyone was different in their own way. Even those raised in their own cultures sometimes deviated from it, and many others left to explore the greater world, rounding out their lives with experiences. Had she been in Black Marsh right now she would have been considered a wise elder, but even now she sometimes felt like a foolish child. Ever grateful for Aryon's blunt insights, she leaned up just enough to give him a brief kiss. "I will be satisfied with it too."

* * *

Returning to Markarth had been a joint decision, made mostly because they wanted to see the Dwemer museum again. Finding information on the dragons was of course also on their minds. Aryon's want for her to learn more about other Argonians had been temporarily pacified when she found all four volumes of _The Argonian Account_, and despite her initial disinterest, she had found the story entertaining enough to share with him. He had found it equally amusing, and with that they agreed that she wouldn't be doing her research alone. Today, Laje-tal had gone to visit Calcelmo, a mutual friend they had known some time before the Forsworn attack. They had already been here a couple days, enjoying the respite. Aryon wandered on his own around the city, discreetly looking up old friends and catching up on news. It was in the local tavern that he now found himself, sharing a few words with the old Skald.

It was interesting to hear the old man's account of his experiences as a Skald, and it was also good to see that he was still alive, though much older. The Nord was understandably a little put off by how elves all but refused to age, but they moved back into their talks about Nords and history like they had before, keeping the conversations simple. One thing they had always talked about at length was Shor, known as Lorkhan by the elves. Each of their races had differing stories of the god, but it all came down to what interested both him and Laje-tal; the connection between the heart of that god and what the Dwemer had been trying to accomplish.

Soon enough the Skald went back to work as the evening crowd started to trickle in, singing songs and telling tales to anyone who seemed interested. Aryon just sat by the fire and listened idly, waiting for Laje-tal to get done talking to Calcelmo. That was likely to take hours, so he got comfortable. An hour or so passed by and finally the Argonian came into the bar, coming to his side casually. He looked up, greeting her with a small huff. "I'd have thought it would be half past midnight before you got here. You must have not had much more to say on those books of yours."

She only shrugged. "Books can only say so much before they run out of words. As much as we look into them, neither of us have been able to understand what all of those pages were trying to say. I'm starting to think we're never going to get any farther than the first ten pages."

Somehow the way she said it made him wary. Then he remembered that all of her books, _The Egg of Time, Hanging Gardens, Divine Metaphysics_ and _Secrets of Dwemer Animunculi_ all had much less than ten pages. She and Calcelmo had rarely talked about much else. Maybe they had finally found something else to discuss. "No matter, you always do what you seek to do, I'm sure it will come to you eventually. Did you want something to drink here?"

"Yes, I could use one after all of that thirsty work." As soon as the barmaid came by, she flagged the woman down to give her order. "A mead, please."

Now Aryon was suspicious in earnest. This couldn't be Laje-tal, she detested mead with a fervent passion and she surely wouldn't have said please. But who was it? While the Argonian was distracted by ordering her drink and listening to one of the Skald's tales, he inspected her closely. She was very similar in appearance, almost eerily so, but as her neck turned he saw the part where scarring from the corprus disease should have been. Try as she might, something like that was hard to mimic, and his wife had been very self-conscious about that scarring, always pulling her hood around her neck to hide it. She wouldn't have let it slip like this. No, the color was all wrong too. Deciding to play along and see where exactly this was going, he worded his question very carefully. "I'm sure it was good to catch up with Calcelmo, but tomorrow we should be able to study the ruins at Reachwind Eyrie in earnest. I'm looking forward to researching more into those attunement spheres." It was a lie, of course. They had planned to spend the next three days in Markarth, and attunement spheres had no use in Reachwind Eyrie.

"A fine mystery, those! It has been good to see Markarth again but I'll be glad to be back out on the field."

That had also been confirmation, but he had known it already. He just wanted to see how far this Argonian would take her little ruse. Most likely she was an assassin, most imposters were for that purpose. Granted, she was a good imposter. She dressed the same, looked nearly the same, and had a similar deportment, but she couldn't replicate the small things that came from knowing someone for a very long time. Her mead had arrived, and he lingered long enough for her to drink it. Yes, let her have her last drink. If she was an assassin, her last it would be indeed.

Finally she rose, looking at him expectantly. "You know, I heard they had a statue of Talos here in town. I'd like to go see it while we're here. Want to come along?"

Talos, huh? She had always called the man Tiber Septim, out of habit after hearing Barenziah call him so all the time. Not only that but she had never shown any interest in the shrine, even in all the time they had lived here. So this was to be the place of betrayal, then? Yes, it was a good plan, seeing that the shrine was rarely visited. He would get her before it went that far. "Certainly, I've been meaning to see it since the Forsworn raid." She made no comment on that, and he smirked to himself at how poor this assassin was at her job. Night had barely begun to set in as they walked to the main square outside, but once they had enough clear space, Aryon stopped in his tracks.

The mystery Argonian heard him stop and turned around with a questioning look. "What's wrong?"

He didn't bother to hide the roll of his eyes. "You are a miserable assassin if you think I would fall for this for long."

To his amusement she had the gall to play dumb. "An assassin? You are too paranoid, you really think an assassin would be looking for you here?"

Just for fun he humored his need to catch her red handed. "Alright then, which of Kagrenac's tools did you use to destroy the heart of Lorkhan?"

He had to admit, she did at least think on her feet. "Tools? Why, the hammer, of course."

"Wrong answer." Pulling his blade they broke into a skirmish, but this Argonian wasn't even half the Argonian his wife was. It wasn't long before he beheaded the stranger and as he glared down at her corpse, he let out a short laugh. "The hammer indeed." By then guards had come to see what was happening, and it was all explained easily enough by a note on the corpse. The Dark Brotherhood. Now he looked at the corpse with a deeper frown, an old anger stirring up in his heart. They were back.

A good few minutes passed as everyone on the scene discussed what had gone on, and before long the real Laje-tal came running to the scene, taking in the strange Argonian with an equal amount of distaste and a bit of fear for her love's safety. He could easily take care of a lowly assassin but it was still a scare. "What is all of this?"

Taking her aside, Aryon talked to her quietly. "An assassin that looked like you attacked me. I know I'm being paranoid, but humor me. Which books did you talk with Calcelmo about? Which of Kagrenac's tools did you use to destroy the heart of Lorkhan?"

As expected she understood his questioning. She would have done the same in this circumstance. "We discussed _The Egg of Time_ again, with a quick look at _Divine Metaphysics_. We didn't get to the others today. The tools I used were Keening and Sunder."

Heaving a sigh of relief he pulled her to him, both of them leaning into the embrace with more than a little anxiety. With a hard look Aryon pulled the note out between them, showing it to her, his words coming softly with trepidation. "They're back."

Her hands shook slightly as she took the note, reading it with disbelief. She glanced back at him, her pupils mere slits as she felt anger surge through her like her own magic. "Not for long. I will kill all of them for this disgrace. The others from the Dark Brotherhood had the courtesy to fight me or you directly, not this insulting deceit." Sparing a look back at the corpse, she grunted in further disapproval. "Was that supposed to be me? They didn't even get the neck scales right. Those are the most important ones."

"I know. Argonians bare their necks in greeting, not their horns. They must have thought I wouldn't notice."

"They can't even get the simplest thing correct."

Laughing at her nitpicking the details of an assassin of all things, he just shook his head at how glad he was to know it was her in front of him. "It was actually something she said that made me wonder at first. I was in the inn, and you know how terrible the lighting is in there." She nodded agreement to that, and he continued. "Said something about not even getting past the first ten pages of the books! Hah! You've never talked about anything but those odd Dwarven books with Calcelmo, and you know what else? She ordered a mead!"

Laje-tal grimaced pointedly. "Vile!" Things had calmed down now, the guards taking away the body and someone was even already cleaning up the blood. The initial shock of it all had gone away, but she still had a worried look on her face. "I'm just glad you're alright. We had better stay together for now, but if we get separated again, let's think of something to identify each other just in case. Let's recall the third of Sun's Dawn."

"Every Dunmer knows that one. You just show me your ring, that is enough for any imposter. Ask me about the twentieth of Heartfire."

That had been the day she had lit all of those copies of _The Lusty Argonian Maid_ in his tower, something only they would recall. She found herself grinning at the memory. "Ah yes, that. That was a very fine day indeed."

Shooting her a playful look, he put enough distance between them before telling her a small but peculiar nugget of information he had learned while in town. "Have you read volume two yet? I've heard it's quite a read." It was a good thing he had learned how to run.


	4. Chapter 4

Laje-tal knew quite well about orphanages. She had been in one for a while before being "adopted" by a family. That stint as a slave for those Dunmer hadn't lasted long. No, she had been all but born with magic in her blood, and they had thought her too young and small to require the magic restraining bracers her older kin had on. By the time her horns had sprouted she had killed her captors, and it led to her quickly having to make a run for it. She hadn't had cause to think that she would ever be in such a place again, but here they were. The lovely city of Riften.

It hadn't been hard to find out about the Dark Brotherhood. A child in Windhelm was looking for the group, and though they had been a little puzzled that someone so young was looking to have someone killed, they followed up on it. Aryon agreed to pose as a Dark Brotherhood agent, his red, glowing eyes perfectly menacing when she covered him in enough dark clothes and a masked hood to pull off the evil organization look. He went in and handled it with usual Dunmer charm, being perfectly condescending and distrustful through the whole ordeal. The child was naturally intimidated by his looks and attitude, and he had gotten the information they needed. Riften was their next visit, and their target an old woman. It didn't sound pleasant, but if they wanted to attract the attention of the Dark Brotherhood, the best way to do so was to kill one of their targets first.

Now next to her in the orphanage, Aryon looked at his wife uncertainly, knowing how she felt about being in a place like this. Although she rarely spoke about her life before Vvardenfell, she had briefly mentioned that orphanages made her uneasy. It hadn't taken him long to piece together the reasons. She met his look, a small frown on her face. "I don't like this."

He only shook his head. "Not much else we can do."

Quickly enough though their target, Grelod the Kind, proved to be anything but. She was the very definition of everything wrong with an orphanage, and after talking to her for only minutes, Laje-tal found herself already wanting to wring her neck. Instead she pulled Aryon aside, whispering to him while everyone was distracted. "Might I have the honor?"

"I was about to suggest the same thing. I'll distract them."

She faked earnestly looking around the place as Aryon started up a conversation with the only other adult, a woman named Constance. That one had been the actual kind one, really wanting to take care of the children, and with Grelod out of the way she would be in charge. As soon as he started talking about magic, Laje-tal knew she was in the clear. He could talk about that until he was even grayer in the face, and as expected Grelod retired to her room, not wanting to hear about such things. The children had been fascinated, and before long he had the whole room distracted. She slipped quietly into the shadows, little more than dark scales against dark wood, edging to the door.

By some stroke of luck the old woman was already laying down. When the Argonian slipped in, she had woken up, but she was quickly silenced by a strong paralyzing spell. Laje-tal only gave her a grim look. "No, not today. You're just like they were." Pulling around just enough to not get marked by the blood, she let a small iron dagger do the rest of the talking. Ever thorough, she left a note making it look like it was indeed a Dark Brotherhood mark. As quietly as she came in she left, heading out the side door and into the outer fenced area outside. Once a few minutes had passed she came back in loudly enough to attract the attention of the others, smiling despite what she had just done. "You know, there really are a good few flowers back there. I don't know why the children are cooped up inside on a day like this."

At her desk Constance sighed wistfully, probably thinking much the same herself. "It really is too bad, but Grelod won't allow it."

"A real shame. Why not ask her if she might allow it just this once? It's no good to keep the sun from one's scales."

"I suppose it couldn't hurt to ask her..."

"Well no matter, I'm sure you'll see to their needs as well as you can." Catching Aryon's eye, quietly confirming much with that simple look, they came to an agreement. "I suppose we had better get going, since we couldn't quite get what we came for."

"I do wish I could have helped you." She sighed again, looking at the children as they went back to entertaining themselves. "I want all of them to find good homes, but I just don't know. I'm sure you'll make great parents for some child someday, let's just hope it's someday soon."

Laje-tal froze at that. "Yes, thank you," she said distantly, leaving the place as quickly as she could without seeming suspicious. Aryon followed right after her, talking only once they were out of range of the building.

"That went better than I had hoped." Seeing her cold stare, looking at everything but seeing nothing, he admitted to himself that he had felt the same in that place. "It's better this way."

She nodded absently, but her mind was elsewhere. About a hundred years after arriving in Skyrim, their relationship had produced something they had never thought possible. Results. A child resulting from a Dunmer and an Argonian had been entirely unheard of in the past, and only documented in hypothetical curiosity. It hadn't ended well. Halfway through the child was born dead. They had reasoned that it was better off being as it was, with both of them immortal, and they wouldn't have to watch future generations age and die before they would, but sometimes they were still reminded of it. "I know. It's better this way." Letting the moment drop, knowing they had both agreed long ago not to dwell on it any longer than necessary, she started to head back out of the city.

Everyone on the street heard the ear-shattering scream come from inside the orphanage. Wincing, his sensitive ears catching it particularly hard, Aryon followed after her quickly. "Let's get out of here."

As the day waxed forward they headed north out of town, going as far as Shor's Stone. The place didn't have an inn, but they could camp readily enough on the outskirts without too much trouble. After clearing out the local mine of its spiders, the citizens couldn't have cared less that there were strangers setting up for the night. They had even gotten a fair amount of coin for their trouble, enough to keep them set with supplies for a good while. Once they pitched a small camp at the top of a hill, they sat watching as the sun started to set, looking out over the village.

"Well, now what?" Aryon asked.

"Now we wait. You don't find the Dark Brotherhood, it finds you." On Vvardenfell she had learned just as much, having been targeted by the organization for some time before she brought the fight to them all the way in Mournhold. "Either they will attack us as we sleep or they will capture one of us. Probably the latter, considering they have been hurting for new recruits."

"Do you suppose they will take us both?"

"Maybe. If we get separated, let's meet in Whiterun. It's central and safe, and the Jarl knows us."

"Agreed." They ate from their rations, sharing a drink back and forth, trying not to think about what was going to happen next. It would happen one way or the other, and they were ready. "This is a very quiet little place. I suppose Shor's Stone refers to the stone of Lorkhan, since Shor is the Nordic Lorkhan."

"Probably. The heart of Lorkhan was once called the stone of red tower, or Red Mountain. The stories differ, but everyone has a story of Lorkhan. It's not too hard to imagine that they are the same thing. Shor's Stone, Shor's bones, I don't know." Her brow furrowed again as it often did whenever she thought on the puzzle of Lorkhan. She always got that same look, and Aryon knew it well.

"Hm, Shor's bones, Lorkhan's bones. It's something like the Earth Bones, maybe."

"Maybe, Lorkhan was supposedly behind the creation of Mundus. That, and maybe the shattering of Lorkhan led to those different parts being separated. It could well be that Shor's bones are here after all."

"That's an interesting thought. I wonder if the Dwemer considered that."

"If they had, it probably would have made things worse. They might have been able to obtain even more power. Then again, they disappeared at the same time as the Battle of Red Mountain, so maybe they never had the chance." Taking out a sheaf of notes from her pack to jot something down, she leaned back against the tree they were sitting near. "Baladas had a theory that the Dwemer were trying to invert the laws created by the Earth Bones, where the deaths of the sacred created the profane. He suspected they were trying to create the sacred from the deaths of the profane."

"Not implausible, they did have long-range telepathic powers, they could have communicated in mass on that day."

"If that's true then it didn't work, since Lorkhan's heart was largely unchanged. Maybe they had all been the conduit for whatever they were going to use to tap into the power. Kagrenac's tools, after all, were able to block that conduit. I still don't know if I actually destroyed it or if it was simply banished from this world, but there was definitely a severing of a connection that I didn't understand."

"We might never know." Slowly the stars came out, and they sat quietly for a while, watching the sky spin slowly on its axis. "Have you been trying that dragon power of yours more?"

Caught off guard by the sudden question, it took her a second to respond. "Once in a while. It isn't as frightening as it was before, now that I understand it better."

"Magic is always frightening when you first learn it." He grinned, remembering how he learned spells as a boy. "Fire and lightning were always a problem with my parents. I'm sure I could have had a thousand bounties by the time I came of age if they hadn't been around to teach me the correct ways to restrain it."

"What were your parents like?"

It was odd how that question had never come up. Neither of them had talked much about life before House Telvanni, but he hardly minded telling her now. "Our whole family was of the Telvanni, naturally. It was clear from early on that I was a mage, so I learned under both them and other tutors in the family. They were good enough to me, made sure I didn't burn down the village, that sort of thing."

"I don't remember mine." Next to her Aryon perked up, though he tried not to let it show. "All I know is they fought and died in the Arnesian war. That, and the day I was born my egg caught fire. Nobody knew what to do, it had come out of nowhere. All I was doing was trying to hatch, and I had done it casting magic."

The idea instantly came to him as absurd, and he found himself laughing at it. "You hatched from burning your own eggshell? That is the true birth of a mage!"

She chuckled a little at that. "That's why I don't remember ever being frightened of my magic. It was always there. It didn't matter, though. My parents were already dead by then."

"How could your mother have died before you were born?"

"Argonians aren't born the same day they are eggs. The soft skins have a long term of nine months, give or take, but Argonians are only five. We spend the last four as an egg by the hearth, hardening every day until ready to hatch. When the youngling hatches, its parents or caregivers bring out hist sap so it might decide how many times to lick it."

He blinked in amazement, never having had this interesting insight into the young life of Argonians before. "So you do know a bit of something, then. What does the sap do?"

Not quite sure how to explain it she frowned, trying to gesture it out. "It makes us. I don't know how to say it." She muttered a strange series of words and sounds. "That is what the former slaves I knew called it. The more we lick it, the more we become part of the Hist. You have seen others, right? Some that could almost look like humans?" He nodded and she went on. "They did not lick the sap so much, maybe once or twice. I licked it many times, but not as many as those that live nearest the Hist."

"How odd." Still he smiled, feeling more intrigued than appalled, as much of the rest of the Dunmer surely would have been. "Fascinating. What else did those former slaves have to say?"

"Not much else. They shared a few stories from the homeland, a few small things. Although they worked for me for a fair wage and good housing, they still did not trust me much. I was still a Telvanni, and it was hard for anyone to trust anyone else in that place."

"That it was. I can't imagine how it must have been for a former slave to work for a Telvanni. I can't even imagine how it is to be a slave."

"It's better that you can't."

That had definitely been something she had never mentioned. She had been open enough about the Imperials she had lived with for a time, but he never knew that there had been anything before. It made sense now. Imperials wouldn't have known how to raise an Argonian, but Dunmer would have had enough slaves about to make sure the job got done properly. He knew better than to ask why she was being so open with him. She had always done so whenever they were on the brink of the unknown. Maybe something about that made them want to say the unsaid. Just in case. "Hm, well I really can't imagine how it is to be a former slave married to a Telvanni."

With a small smile she turned to him, ever grateful he could understand what she didn't say as much as what she did. "It's perfect."

* * *

Laje-tal was blindfolded, on her knees and on a hard wooden floor but she didn't panic. They had found her, and though she was bound and blinded, she always had an escape plan as a backup. Rope and cloth couldn't bind her, and surely the Dark Brotherhood knew that. If they didn't, they were even more foolish than she had thought. Soon enough the voice of the Dark Brotherhood agent greeted her, a woman, and indeed she had seen the little stunt the Argonian and her Dunmer companion had pulled. Understandably she was disappointed that someone had beaten them to the mark, but was at the same time impressed by the swift efficiency with which it had been done.

"Now, I'm going to give you a little task to perform," the woman, now introduced as Astrid, said calmly. "There are three prisoners here with you. One of them is wanted by the Dark Brotherhood, but which one? Kill one of them, but choose well. It could be any of them."

So that was how they were recruiting these days. She was finally untied, and looked to the back of the room behind her where indeed there were three others equally bound and hooded. On top of the bookcase in front of her, the blond agent looked down at her expectantly. This would have to be done very carefully. Laje-tal went about what the agent expected, interviewing each of the captives, sometimes intimidating them into answering. Finally she backed away, readying her bow. As she pretended to aim at the Khajiit, she couldn't help but ask. "Tell me, Astrid... how many arrows would it take to ruin a brotherhood?"

Pale brows drawn, Astrid moved on her perch uneasily. "What?"

In an instant she turned, letting the arrow loose with enough force to pierce the agent's heart and exit just enough to pin her to the wall. "Not what. One." With that she freed the other prisoners, offering them food, water, and a bit of coin so they could escape. Taking Astrid's bloody gloves from her corpse, she kept them as proof of the deed, leaving the rest there to rot however it would. They all agreed to make it to the nearest town together, though when they stepped out onto the misty moors, it wasn't quite clear where they were.

The Khajiit smelled the air, turning to their group and pointing southeast. "We are near Morthal, I think. It smells like Morthal. Moss, muck, deathbells and swamp fungus."

Laje-tal peered at the direction of the sun, not even sure what time it was, but in the distance she recognized a stone monolith she had been to before. "There, that stone. We are indeed near Morthal. Let's go." Leading the mixed group all full of mixed feelings, she led the way. None of the others had weapons, save for their own hands, so she took it upon herself to get them out of there. It was because of her that they were captured, after all. They had readily accepted that her rough interrogation was purely to fool the Dark Brotherhood agent, and all was forgiven more or less.

Along the way they had little trouble, mostly fighting off mudcrabs and moor spirits. A rogue conjurer had attacked, but Laje-tal made quick and easy work of him. Finally they emerged from the eerie mists and into the small hold of Morthal, where they gladly parted from each other and went about their ways. Nearby a few guards saw the band of bedraggled strangers and approached her, figuring her to be the leader as she was the only one armed and dangerous. "Hold now, stranger! Who are all of these odd folk you're bringing in with you?"

Others had stopped to stare at the small but unusual event but she paid them no attention, showing the stained gloves of the agent she had slain to the guard. "These people were captives of the Dark Brotherhood. The leader captured me and tried to make me kill one but I killed her instead. I don't suppose you might know where any others might be?"

Of course the guard was startled, but the proof was right in front of his eyes. Stammering, he managed to point in a generally southwest direction. "I... you... yes, I believe I heard that Commander Maro in Dragon Bridge has been hunting them down for some time. You should ask for him there." Still a bit shocked, he looked again at the gloves. "You really killed the leader?"

"She called herself as much but I want to be sure and kill them all." Trying not to scare the poor man she put away her weapon, relaxing her pose a little. "I'm thinking I might need to prepare a little. Is there an apothecary? A trader? Any mages?"

"Yes, yes, we have an apothecary right over there, and the general trader is on the other edge of the docks. As for mages there's just that wizard living here, Falion. He's up to some strange business, that one, but if you're needing the odd potion he's alright enough."

"Perfect. I'll go pay him a visit." Leaving the guard even more confused she walked along the dock to find the wizard's house, hoping he would have a fair stock of magicka potions and maybe a few spare ingredients. The alchemist would be a second option, but she preferred to interact with those who wouldn't give her peculiar looks when she listed off the items she needed.

As soon as she entered his home he shot her a rather aggrieved look. "Oh great. Another newcomer to Morthal. I suppose you came here to see what I was doing?" Without warning he went on a small rant about how others in Morthal viewed him, the many and varied things he supposedly did, and misconceptions in general. Finally he took a breath. "Any questions?"

Laje-tal only blinked, holding out her hand to introduce herself. He deserved it after all of that. "Laje-tal, House Telvanni."

"Telvanni?" He sighed a very exasperated sigh, taking her hand in greeting briefly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I'm sure you know how it is out there."

"As much as you do. I'm a conjurer myself at times, and I'm sure you know of the Telvanni. I'll admit I came to you before the apothecary because people like us often require... unusual items. I thought you might have some to sell."

"Yes, yes, of course. I do know of House Telvanni, just about any mage with any learning knows about who they were. Are. I don't know, haven't heard much about them first hand. So what will it be? Spell books, soul gems, reagents?"

"I have yet to find a spell book I haven't learned, but as for the rest yes. I've a long way to go to get back to Whiterun so whatever restorative potions you might have would be good. Maybe a few fortifications as well, and do you have any grand soul gems?"

"Just a few, but for you I'll be glad to sell them. Tell you what, you tell me a bit about House Telvanni and I'll give you a few potions? I've always been terribly curious about the sorts of things they did over there in Morrowind but the Dark Elves aren't the sort to talk. I'm from Hammerfell myself, not many are used to seeing a Redguard mage, but I suppose you know all about that too."

"Intimately." Taking a seat nearby she rested for a moment as he prepared some potions. He didn't seem to have what she needed on hand and was going to the trouble of making them for her. She would wait; as much as she wanted to return to Aryon as quickly as possible, going on a journey all the way back to Whiterun without supplies was entirely foolish. She had every intention to return in one piece. "I'm afraid I can only wait as long as it takes to make the potions. I need to return to my husband, but I'll tell you what little I can while we wait. I suppose the trick now is where to begin..."

There were of course things she couldn't reveal to anyone outside of the house but she told him what she could, discussing the role of the council and the members in it and how there were generally few if any politics involved in much of anything. She also touched on the subject of the other houses and how they had once competed for land and position in Morrowind and Vvardenfell, and by the time she had finished with how Telvanni structures were created from giant species of fungi, the potions were complete. Falion handed them to her, clearly entertained by every aspect of it. "Amazing, simply amazing! I suppose you must be going now but I would love it if I could hear more in the future?"

Simply laughing at his enthusiasm she accepted the potions, storing them away in the pack and taking out a bit of coin for the soul gems and a few odds and ends. Stowing those away as well she found a small book she had almost forgotten about. "Hm, _The Affairs of Wizards_? Well it's hardly a novel, for sure, but take it. It might be a small interest to you." He tried to offer her something for it but she refused. "I barely remember the thing, just have it. I'll be sure to look you up again but I must be going. I need to make haste to Whiterun." Without any further distractions she left Morthal, following the road east out of town. The moors were a quiet, depressing place and she would be glad to be rid of them, but she did entertain the idea of bringing Aryon here. He would definitely find the place delightfully odd.

* * *

At Dragonsreach, Aryon was talking with Farengar again, trying not to count days. It had been a few since Laje-tal had disappeared, but he wasn't worried just yet. If she had been taken far from Whiterun it would take her some time to get here anyway, and that was after she had taken care of the Dark Brotherhood situation. He just wished the Dark Brotherhood had taken them both; Whiterun was a good city but it was terribly dull.

"And see, this variable here represents the position of yourself to the plane of Oblivion you are trying to summon from. If it's too erratic you won't be able to focus on the stronger daedra, or you might get one that is too strong and they will escape and take you unprepared." Aryon jotted a few notes onto a formula, the scrawled mess taking up the whole page. "The greatest danger comes from unbound Dremora. They have no alliance to this world and therefore are bound by none of the rules of summoning except for being allowed into this world. Obviously you need to take care of this variable."

Farengar nodded, taking it all in with complete clarity. "Yes, I see it now. Although I'm not the conjuring type it is good to understand the theories and dangers behind it nonetheless. Now what about this other formula over here?"

"I haven't tested that one just yet but we have come up with a theory that there is a correlation between summoning creatures in different types of areas, affecting the possible difficulty in doing so. Here in Skyrim I've found it's nearly impossible to summon Golden Saints, but there should really be no reason for that seeing as I was able to do it with ease in Morrowind. Other such daedra like clannfears and winged twilights are equally hard to bring here, but atronachs and elemental daedra aren't any harder than they were in other areas. I'm trying to see if there is a relationship between the types of geology or environment and the sorts of daedra that can be called. So far I've reckoned this much."

"A very interesting theory indeed." He looked over the formula, much of it going over his head. "Can't say I understand it yet, but it's an interesting thought. What of that Argonian that was with you before? Has she had anything to say on this theory? If I remember right she's a mage too."

"Yes, she and I came up with this theory together. I'm afraid my wife is having more fun than I am right now. By now she's probably carved through half the Dark Brotherhood, but we agreed to meet up here, so here I'll stay for now. Once she comes back I'll be sure to have her explain her own contributions to this theory."

"Your wife, is she? To each their own." He shrugged dismissively. "Oh but I would love to study her! Powers of the Dragonborn! And if we could get a real live dragon captive here in Dragonsreach! The things I could test on it!"

Aryon shook his head, understanding the Nord's zeal but knowing neither of those things were bound to happen. Definitely, getting a dragon in Dragonsreach was the more plausible of those things. For a while longer they discussed the destruction magics and the finer points of enchanting, easily getting absorbed in their work. Neither of them noticed the Argonian approaching them from behind until she sighed heavily, making them both jump and turn around with a bit of a jolt.

"I figured you would be here."

Aryon, wary of another assassin attack, kept his guard up as he faced her. "Show me."

"Ah, right." Her ring was plainly in the open but she knew that was hardly enough. Spying a carrot on a nearby plate she took it, putting the ring on it as they all watched it wither to a crisp instantly. Once her ring was returned to her finger she posed her own test. "You next."

"Twentieth of Heartfire." Both of them confirmed he finally relaxed, glad to see her back in one piece, though he hadn't expected any less. "I'm guessing you got at least one of them."

She dipped her head, horns bobbing jerkily. "I did at least get their leader. She was alone, a big mistake. I learned that the Imperials in Dragon Bridge are looking for the rest." Grinning, she pointed at him. "I figured you might want to tag along."

"Of course! I did wonder if you saved any for me, this place is beyond dull. No offense, Farengar."

The Nord wasn't bothered, though, still awed by the strange properties of the ring that he had just witnessed. He approached the Argonian, unfazed by her puzzled glance. "Amazing! I simply must see that again! How does it work? What exactly did you do?"

She snatched back her hand before he could touch her ring, backing away slightly. "I wouldn't try it on if I were you. It kills anyone but me in an instant."

"What a fine notion! It would be perfect for that enchanted ring you don't want anyone else to have! How did you enchant it that way?"

"I... well, it wasn't me..."

He grew even more animated, his loud voice easily carrying through the hold. "Ah! A daedra, then? No, a Daedric Lord? Dwemer? Ah, the Dwemer! No, no, that would have been too long ago. Necromancers, maybe? No, definitely Daedric make I'm sure!"

Luckily his raving had attracted the attention of Irileth nearby at the central hearth, and she charged in with an exceptionally frustrated frown. "Farengar! The Jarl and I have both told you not to pester travelers with questions they don't want to answer! Come on, they look exhausted. Any questions you have can well wait until they are ready to tell you!"

Farengar retreated from her ire readily enough, going back behind his desk. "Alright, I know, I know. I get carried away and I don't deserve the lenience you all shower on me, I know it all already." Picking up a nearby book to read he seemed to forget them, going back to his business.

"Honestly..." Guiding the other two back into the main hall she gestured out to the main door. "You had better leave here for now, Farengar isn't likely to really forget you for long."

"Thanks Irileth," Laje-tal said with more than a hint of relief. "With the assassins attacking, one disguised as me, we've had to be particularly careful and my ring is the surest way to know it's really me. I like talking with other mages just as much as any, but as you said I'm exhausted. I ran full pace to return here after taking care of that Dark Brotherhood leader."

"The Dark Brotherhood? My, but you've become popular, haven't you? You took out their leader, too? Good, another thorn in our sides gone. I'm supposing you'll clean up the rest as well?"

"We both will. We killed them before in Mournhold and we'll kill them again now."

"So that was you too." She merely shrugged. "Go to it, then. You'll save the rest of us the headache of defending the Jarl against them. I'll keep Farengar perfectly well contained."

"I'll satisfy his curiosity someday but this isn't that day. We'll let you know if we find anything more on those dragons, too."

Aryon handed the housecarl a note full of scrawlings. "Please also see if you can get any of these things shipped here into town. I know some may seem a bit odd but I can't find them anywhere. If anyone can find them, I'm sure you can."

She looked over the note, her brows raising in interest at a few of the entries. "I'll see what I can do. Find more of those dragons, and I will at least point you in the right direction."

"We shall send you their heads until Dragonsreach is filled with them. Until then."

Laje-tal turned to leave with him. "Until then, Sera."

Only once they were well away from the keep did Aryon smirk at her, giving her a rather odd look. "Sera?"

The Argonian only shrugged. "What can I say? I like her."

* * *

Stalking prey was always a test of patience, but they had waited nonetheless. The remnants of the Dark Brotherhood in Skyrim were all in one place, in the outskirts of Falkreath behind an otherwise impenetrable black door. Commander Maro and his men had lately obtained the password to get inside, though they hadn't mustered up enough volunteers to help clear the place out. Neither of them minded. In Mournhold there had been dozens of Dark Brotherhood members, and the small number promised behind the door now sounded too good to be true.

They had waited patiently until the height of day, knowing the agents preferred to work at night when their prey was asleep. That concept was just as well turned back on them. Now they approached the black door, giving the password to it and slipping in silently. Laje-tal held up two fingers, hearing two members nearby. Trading hand signals they split up, taking to different marks. The first down was a Nord, caught unaware while eating. Aryon slipped further away into the back of the shadows and she crept to a closer one, frowning when she saw what it was. Another Argonian.

He was probably a Shadowscale, though that old practice was nowadays kept within the marsh. Still, he was one of a select few, an elite among the elite, trained from the day he was hatched to be the perfect killer. She could respect that. Creeping closer, her steps bare and light, she held her breath. Being so at ease in his home would be the death of him, complacency his one mistake. Wrenching his head back suddenly, she pulled her dagger across his neck. "Nocturnal take you." Sounds suddenly erupted from the upper floor, lightning flaring and exploding loudly. "Waxhuthi," she swore, forgetting herself in the chaos. Forgoing the plan to take them out with stealth, she charged up the back, finding Aryon trading blows with a Redguard.

Knowing he could take care of himself she ran further in, encountering a woman mage trying to join her fellow agent in what appeared to be the dining room. The other mage tried keeping her distance, using the big table between them, but Laje-tal hopped onto the mess, meeting the other in the middle as they sliced at each other with their daggers atop the table. Plates and food flew everywhere, and in an attempt to disorient the other mage, she let loose with her voice. "Fus!" The force of her Dragonborn power made the woman lurch against it, dropping low long enough for the Argonian to finish her off.

Aryon finished off the Redguard almost immediately after, jumping down to her level and keeping an eye out from behind. "I am ever glad we're on the same side, love."

She grinned at him triumphantly, turning back as the final agent came running into the room. This one was an older mage, definitely one with many years of experience. He looked frail enough, but they both knew what a truly knowledgeable mage could do in time. Facing him together they split again, dodging his stronger spells and enduring weaker ones to come closer. Aryon had him on the retreat, blade coming ever closer to slicing him open. Laje-tal saw her chance, shouting once more. "Fus!" As wise as the other mage may have been, he hadn't expected dragon powers. It brought him to his knees, buying just enough tome for Aryon to finish him off as well.

Shaking the blood off his blade Aryon surveyed the room, listening for any other sounds. "Five, right?"

"Right, Maro said five. They had a Shadowscale."

He frowned at that. "They did? No wonder they did so much with so little." No other sounds could be heard in the sanctuary, but Laje-tal suddenly perked up, seeming to hear something. "What is it?"

"I hear a chanting. I'm not sure what it's saying." Aryon insisted he couldn't hear anything at all, and his ears were far sharper, but she couldn't quell the odd feeling and followed the noise. Down on the lower level, a circular wall seemed to call to her, and she remembered feeling the same way at Bleak Falls Barrow. It was a wall of words. "This is just like the wall at the barrow, but the words are different. It feels the same way, but... different somehow." One word called out to her in particular, seeming to glow and resonate from the stone. As soon as she approached it the word was known, became a part of her. She couldn't quite understand its meaning, but she knew it.

Aryon looked at the text but all he saw was scratches he didn't recognize. "Dragon language?"

"Yes." She knew, but she didn't. It was all so strange. "Krii. It says krii. I know it."

"Another spell, then. Maybe you need to kill another dragon to understand it, like you did before."

"I don't know, but I have a feeling there will be enough dragons popping up again to find out."

* * *

On the shores of northern Skyrim, out in the midst of the frozen sea, Aryon and Laje-tal both looked out over the wreck of _The Pride of Tel Vos_, the former Telvanni ship that had sailed out during the chaos of the Accession War. It had been one of many things they had sent on from Tel Vos before it was ruined and then sacked, and one of many of those things that had gotten ruined or sacked anyway. There had been bandits around it, of course, but they hardly stood a chance against the two mages and now here they were, looking through what little was left.

Laje-tal lifted up a plank, grabbing an old but still potent potion. "What a shame, it was such a fine boat for its time. Now it just gathers barnacles and bandits."

"And water everywhere," Aryon agreed, picking through some odds and ends the bandits left behind. "Ah, my ship! Spent so much on this hunk of wood! Now it wastes away just like our strongholds, buried by the water just as much as the rest in the ash. Not much good in here either."

"The bandits probably sold off whatever they could. Oh, here! Look!" She extracted a thin journal from a partially submerged chest, and surprisingly enough it was mostly intact. "I found it!"

"Let's see that." Looking over her shoulder when she opened it up, they read through the whole set of entries, both frowning at the end of it. "Lymdrenn! Bah! He assumed us dead! Well, I suppose I understand where he got that notion, with us escaping across the border by then. I'm sure they tore that fool to pieces, the way he had been going on about never giving up those pathetic slaves of his. I swear I never saw such a sad bunch of folk in all my days."

"They're all dead by now." Meeting Aryon's grunt with a sympathetic look she tried to reassure him. "If they were Argonians, they are already reborn. They will remember nothing of their pains before."

"I suppose so." He wasn't sure what else to make of it. As far as he knew, those Argonian souls really were reborn over and over again, but he didn't know it for a fact. Ancient Dunmer still wandered the lands as spirits now and then, so he knew not to discount it out of hand. "Better get this book back to Riften, then. You might be interested to meet this person, you know. He is a Dunmer but he was raised by an Argonian family."

"Is that so? Well then, we are opposites." She chuckled slightly. "You know, you did say I should know more Argonians, but wouldn't this Dunmer be a good start? After all, he is as much out of his element as I am. Maybe we can learn our own cultures through each other."

Pulling back from her shoulder with a touch of surprise he regarded her with amusement. "Two odds finding ends? Yes, that sounds like a good idea. As Telvanni, especially, we could offer him a fair amount of knowledge on the sort of place he is from. He was raised in the marshes, so he could tell you first hand what the homeland of your ancestors is like." He paused, wondering on something that had bothered him for a long time. "Do you ever want to go there? To Black Marsh?"

With a sigh she started walking back to their camp, eager to get back to the warm fire. "Aside from that time during the Oblivion Crisis when I felt the Hist compelling me to return, I haven't felt any real need or want to go there. What is there for me? I don't know that place. Even if I did go, do you really think they would take an outlander like me? When the Hist tried to pull me in, I was able to resist because Vvardenfell was my home. I would be just as much an outsider as I am here."

It was silent for a short while as they sat by the fire, trying to warm up from the chill ever coursing down the banks of snow and ice. Flexing his fingers, trying to get the feeling back into them, he spoke quietly. "I'm sorry I asked."

"No need. You wanted to know, and now you do. None ever get answers if they don't ask questions." She offered him a bit of meat that had been roasting, picking at it a bit herself. "We can't return to Morrowind, but I know we will be at home wherever we may go, even if it is only for a night."

Eating a mouthful of the cooked pheasant, the meat still tasting foreign to him, he couldn't help the sigh that escaped him. "I know. I still miss it."

"As bad as it was, I miss it too." It didn't seem like enough. It never did. Unlike many others that traversed the world, they couldn't go home, and maybe they never would. The only solace she could give was the one thing that would never change. "I am with you." Her fingers intertwined with his, holding tight to that promise they had made so many years ago. It was enough.


	5. Chapter 5

Riften was, as always, a strange sort of haven. For some, it wasn't much better than living out on the road, as much at the mercy of thieves as they were. Others, though, found the small gemstones lodged within the tarnished metals and knew them for what value they truly had. Aryon was that sort of person, and he found himself ever more intrigued by this place each time he came here. Laje-tal was completely engrossed in conversation with the Dunmer Brand-Shei, the one raised by Argonians, and predictably they had already launched into talking about the finer points of the differences between the cultures. Suddenly they started speaking in Jel, a language that Argonians seemed to know inherently, and it was at that point he had gotten lost with what was going on. He could make out bits and pieces of what they said, having studied the language some himself, but he knew she would fill him in later. For now, he explored the city.

Inside the local tavern there were all sorts of folk inside, all as different as could be. Argonians owned the tavern, a couple Dunmer came in and out, Nord nobles and peasants sat at tables near each other and shady characters lurked in the corners. For once he didn't feel out of place. The one who did look out of place was an orange-garbed priest, chiding the others for their drinking and enjoyment. He got chased out of the tavern quickly by the frustrated mob of people, retreating to his temple. Curious, Aryon approached the bartender, Talen-Jei. "What was all that about?"

Talen regarded the Dunmer uneasily, but he conversed readily enough. "Priest of Mara, trying to tell my patrons not to come here. I swear, he's trying to end my business! Life in Skyrim is hard enough without having to give up the few things we like. He's just upset that all the noise here disrupts the weddings he puts on. There's one going on this week and he gets particularly edgy before it."

"A wedding? I did wonder how such a thing went on here. Whose wedding is it?"

"Mine, actually," Talen said with a wide grin. "Keerava hates to kick anyone out of the bar for it but there isn't much we can do. I'm just glad that other Argonian helped us finally forge our rings. It just wouldn't be right without them."

"Ah, the ones with the three amethysts, with the center stone representing the Hist?"

He blinked curiously at that. "Never expected to hear that one out of someone who isn't Argonian. Yes, the very same. I don't know what we would have done without Laje-tal finding the amethysts for us. Such things are hard to come by in Riften without the... right connections."

"Laje-tal did?" Puzzled for a moment he wondered when she had had time to do all of this. Once in a while she did do some odd errands without him noticing, not that he hadn't been doing the same. "My wife does have a knack for finding the strangest objects in the strangest places. Well, we might come attend your wedding if we can, as long as those dragons don't get in the way. I'll give the Nords some credit, they seem to be more open-minded when it comes to marriage. It was nearly impossible to find anyone to join us together."

Slowly he made the connection, though the conclusion confused him just as much. "The Argonian that helped us is your wife, then. Now that I think of it, she had mentioned something about looking for a Dark Elf when she was here. Yes, I suppose it wasn't easy to find someone in Morrowind, if that is where you are both from."

Aryon frowned at the memory. "Not a single holy man, priest or healer would even say words for us, not unless she renounced the Hist and was reinstated as a legal Dunmer."

His lip curled at that. "And that is one thing none of us would ever do, not for anyone."

"I know, nor would I have her do that for any reason, not any more than I would renounce my ancestors. Sometimes peasants would hire a minor mage or someone like that, but all the coin in the world couldn't sway them. Finally we found a much older way, even if only half the folk that heard of the marriage considered it legal."

Talen regarded him with curiosity and a growing respect. "You were very determined, then." He was watching the bar closely, keeping both eyes on Sapphire, a known Thieves Guild member and an aggressive one at that. "I misjudged you, friend, and I'm not too proud to admit that. You're welcome to come to our wedding if you are able to. Excuse me." He marched over to where Sapphire was just about to punch the other Nord, her hand already at his neck. Just about to aim and hit, she was stopped in her tracks by Talen, the Argonian always knowing when someone was about to get hurt in his bar. Yanking back her fist roughly, he shoved both of them towards the door. "Take it outside, Sapphire! You know better!"

The near-fight had been broken up well enough, but Aryon knew when to let someone get back to their work. Out of curiosity he left the bar to take a look at the nearby Temple of Mara. Though he hadn't been a follower of the Divines, he believed in the idea of studying what he didn't know so he might understand it better, even if the knowledge was only good in a theoretical sense. The usual Telvanni outlook was to ignore the outside world for personal pursuits, but his own outlook was exactly opposite. His personal pursuit for knowledge largely was the outside world and the many strange wonders it held.

As he looked around the Temple, observing the architecture and artwork, he found himself recalling the conversation he had had with Talen. He hadn't told many people about the incident that his own marriage had been. In the back of the building, empty during the lunch hour, he sat down in one of the vacant pews, looking through an old journal he had recorded the event in and remembering how it had all come to pass.

In the beginning, it had been an amusing challenge. After the tenth try, though, it had turned into pure frustration. Not even a crooked hedge witch could be convinced to help them, their loyalties to their own race coming up at the most inconvenient of times. At a loss, they looked up older practices in the many books they had laying around, but it was Aryon's thin stash of books on the Ashlanders that had given them the most encouragement.

Laje-tal was considered a clan member of the Urshilaku with the rank of hearth-friend, and with it came some rights she hadn't known about. There was the promise of hospitality, and some would share their homes and food with her, but there were a few other rights that stuck out. She had the right to pose her opinion in a council, though her vote couldn't be counted as official. In times of war, she had the right to ask for their aid, and of course they might ask the same in return. Most importantly, she had the right to request that a wise woman perform a marriage ceremony. There was just one problem.

"You would have to undergo the trial of fire and ash," she pointed out in the book, fingering a very plain line. "You aren't a clan-friend and would be considered an outsider. A clan member can marry a foreigner or outsider if that person does the trial."

He didn't give it much thought, glad that there was at least something they could do. "Fire and ash couldn't give much trouble to a Dunmer. If they will do it after I go through their trial, it's worth trying."

It hadn't been quite that simple, but after they both showed they were quite determined to get what they had sought for so long, Nibani Maesa had agreed to help them. She, like many others, had come to know Laje-tal not just as the Nerevarine, but also a close friend. The Argonian had made a point to visit as often as she could, studying the customs and background of the Ashlanders and developing her relationship with each of the clans. Largely these visits had been to improve the understanding between them and the Telvanni, especially the Zainab that lived close to Tel Vos. This, though, had been a much larger request.

Nibani had looked down at both of them, kneeling in respect of her wisdom, and had been quite plain in her reception of the idea. "I know you, Laje-tal, and I know you wouldn't ask such a thing lightly, knowing how Dunmer feel about your kind. And you, Aryon, I know you enough to know you wouldn't jeopardize your standing in the eyes of the other Telvanni without having good reason. As it is, it's best that your House is mostly ignorant of what their other members do in their own holdings, but it is still a thing to be considered carefully. Once an Ashlander wed an Imperial, and it ended badly. You must understand how difficult it is for me to consider such a thing again."

Aryon only smiled. "This entire process has been as much a test on our relationship as anything else. It hasn't been easy to travel from place to place, only to be refused every time. I don't know how, but it has only made us grow stronger together through these trials. Maybe if we had come to you the first or second time I might have been more hesitant, but you know how we are. Being told we can't do something only makes us want to show them we can."

Beside him Laje-tal laughed, agreeing with him completely. "That, and of course for as much as he frustrates me sometimes, I do love him. Not one person here or anywhere has understood me half as well as he does, and I would say I understand him better than any other." Confirming that, seeing Aryon's brief nod, she continued. "I have learned that sometimes love can surprise you with who it guides you to, but it knows better than you do what you need."

"Very well then." Placing a hand on each of their shoulders, she regarded them both sternly. "I will do this for you, as you have both been so good to all of our clans and have done so much for us, but I expect you to take your vow as seriously as a Dunmer treats the remains of their ancestors." Looking at Aryon specifically, she pointed at him. "You must still undergo the trial. I know you and I know you are earnest, but this is so the entire tribe can see that you are willing to obey our customs and do what many other outsiders have been unwilling to do."

"I will," Aryon agreed.

Frowning, she considered something she hadn't before. "The trial of fire and ash is for foreigners, those who are not Dunmer, so they might better understand the land we are so deeply rooted in. We then pose the trial of water and trees to our clan-kin, so they might understand the lands outside of ours. You would both learn nothing this way, and I wouldn't have that be so. This has been done rarely in all the time of our stories, but it will be done again. You, Laje-tal, must go to Sul-Matuul and take the trial of fire and ash. You, Aryon, will remain here and take the trial of water and trees. I will tell you though the same that Sul-Matuul will say, and that is that you must never tell any person of what you do in your trials, not even each other."

So it had happened. They went through their trials, escaping them with more than they had expected to learn, and they in turn got to witness firsthand what an Ashlander wedding ceremony was like. In hindsight it had been far better than any sort of Temple ceremony, filled with celebration and feasting rather than morose chanting and having to stand around and listen to priests drone on. By the end of the evening his journal had been filled with hundreds of notes, observations and sketches of what had gone on that he had been permitted to tell others, all going into his final book written about the Ashlanders. That book hadn't come into popularity until after the fall of the Tribunal and those calling themselves the Reclamations came around, but then that book hadn't been about how the Ashlanders had been correct about the Tribunal.

The journal from that time had been one of the few things he had kept on him at all times, lest it get lost. He paged through the notes and sketches with a smile. Although the poor old thing had seen better days, he had taken care of it as well as possible, but a few of the sketches had faded slightly and some of the writing smeared. Taking out a hardened ash pencil he cleared up what he could, then took out a fresher journal to sketch out some of the architecture in the Temple. He wasn't exactly a professional artist, but any who looked at his sketches said that he was more or less at least accurate. For a while he just drew and made notes, but after a while he looked up to see Laje-tal entering the Temple, going over to sit next to him.

Before she could get too close, though, he faced her, pointing the pencil at her nose. "What is the shortest book in history?"

She grinned. "Redguard heroes of the War of Betony."

Laughing, he moved closer, showing her the sketch he made of the statue of Mara. "What do you think?"

"Not bad." Comparing his sketch with the statue, she noticed he had the other, much older journal as well. "Ah, I remember that!"

"I would certainly hope so, you helped me fill it." He took out a thicker folded sheet from somewhere in the midst of the pages, unfolding it so she could see the large sketch she had made of Tel Uvirith. "There's this, and a few others in another book of mine."

"I didn't think you had kept that." The sketch she had made of her stronghold after it was first finished had been but one of many things she hadn't been able to find during the evacuation, and although it hadn't been terribly important at the time, after the stronghold had been destroyed it had been missed. "Did you take the one I made of Dagoth Ur's compound?"

"Of course." Seeing her raised brow he tried to look at least somewhat sheepish at being caught at his little theft. "You always stuffed them into the corners of your bookshelf, I couldn't let them end up crumpled into a ball after you went to all the trouble."

"No wonder I couldn't find them. Well, I'm glad for it now, anyway." She took the old journal from him, paging through until she saw the sketches of Red Mountain and the Ghostfence. "I wonder if anything is left of that Ghostfence anymore." For a while they pondered the fate of many places left behind, what Vvardenfell must look like by now, and how long the great mountain might pour out ash. They became so absorbed in the theories they didn't notice when the priestess Dinya of the temple came in, looking at the odd couple talking about her homeland.

"Oh, visitors! I'm so sorry, have you come to seek the counsel of Mara?"

Laje-tal, startled, almost jumped from her seat, looking behind her only to see another Dunmer. How odd, to see a Dunmer at a Shrine of Mara in Skyrim, but then she and Aryon were there so she could hardly judge. "Oh, no, I only came to catch up with my husband. We both have a sort of interest in the many different ways and practices of others, and your Temple has some unique architecture."

As for Aryon, though, he had a small bit more to add. "Actually I also heard that Talen and Keerava were to be married here, and I wanted to see what this place was like. I know so little about Argonian marriage conventions, but to see how it might work in Skyrim was too intriguing to ignore. Such a thing could never have happened in Morrowind, at least not publicly."

The priestess only nodded, having seen as much when she had been in Morrowind herself. "Even now Morrowind continues to be a place filled with misunderstanding and distrust. The blessings of Mara, though, can be conferred onto anyone, and it is she that taught us that the truest love comes from the inner, not the outer. You might have met my husband Maramal, and though he is a Redguard we were married, and it was a surprise to find out I'm also carrying his child. We were told that it couldn't..." She stopped herself, laughing lightly. "Well, that is the nature of such a blessing."

Laje-tal's tail flicked unconsciously with agitation, making Aryon frown but leaving Dinya oblivious. "On the contrary, constantly pairing with a human makes a Dunmer woman become fertile faster and much more likely to bear a child as a result. It's only with other elves that it is so slow."

"Is that so? I suppose it does make more sense now why it happened so quickly..." Just then Maramal returned to the Temple, fretting over this and that, and he did need to clean under that pew thank you very much. Laughing at his curt but humorous comment, Dinya bid them leave with a bit more grace. "You had better go for now, he will be all out of sorts until this week has passed. Come back at a later time if you wish."

It didn't take much of Maramal's fussing to convince them to clear out, and Aryon had picked up on enough of his wife's frustration to know she needed to leave. Once outside, his suspicions had proved correct, her tail flicking hard to smack against a stone post as they walked past it. Fortunately this area of town wasn't heavily traveled, and it wasn't hard to find a nearby clear area. He had an idea of what had been going on, but he had to make sure. "It isn't like you to let something bother you so easily."

Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, eyes narrowed and tail lashing so hard it cut a few grasses from their stems. "I don't know what's wrong with me. Something about the Dark Brotherhood has been bothering me since we cleared them out, it's like there's something wrong but I don't know what." Flames flickered at the ends of her fingers, reacting to her energy and anger. This emotion always did block out her thoughts too much for her to focus.

Being all too familiar with this, Aryon knew the only cure for it was to vent her frustrations. Throwing up a defensive stance he held up his fists, gesturing for her to toss some punches. "Come on, let's see if you can break my defense."

"Aryon, really..."

"You know I won't do anything else until you've broken through." It was true enough, he had the patience for it. He didn't have to wait long, only moments passed before she finally sighed, bringing up her guard and letting loose with her punches. She knew how hard she could hit without actually hurting him, but she reached that extent plenty of times during their spar. Finally she feinted, pulling her punch just enough to make him loosen his guard, and her other fist broke through his defense, tapping him on the shoulder to make the point. Relaxing his stance he waited quietly until her panting waned, aggravation lessening. "Good. Are you ready to talk about this more clearly now?"

Their spar had the calming effect intended, all of her anger – and even jealousy – poured out with every punch. It was as if all she had been troubled over became plain to her with each blow. "We are immortal, not invulnerable. There is always the possibility that we might be killed. After we killed the Dark Brotherhood again, I thought about it just as I did the last time we confronted them. That shadowscale, the moment he let down his guard was the moment he died, and I can't help but think that one day it will happen to one of us."

It had, of course, been a possibility they couldn't ignore for long. Although they were beyond exceptional among their peers, there was, as the Argonians said, a leviathan lurking under every pool, waiting to devour the hardiest fool. Her very ascension to being Arch-Magister of House Telvanni had been by way of slaying the former Arch-Magister, and their lives had both been filled with so much destruction and death it was easy for even the elves to truly consider their mortality. "That's true," he admitted, his expression calm but troubled. "I expect you are worried about what is to become of House Telvanni?"

She was somewhat surprised by his accurate guess. "I am. I can't stand the idea of Neloth ruling House Telvanni in my place. He might even already think he is, and I can't wait to show him that he very well is not. If one or both of us dies, that would be the end of it. I may not be able to provide you an heir, but I will not relegate the future of House Telvanni to Neloth."

"No, he wouldn't be able to deal with any actual troubles outside of his stronghold, he never has. From what I remember, he hardly ever slept and rarely left his home. No, I don't want all of our hard work to be in vain either, but we have to go about this carefully."

"I know. I already heard a couple whispers in Riften that the Nerevarine might be in Skyrim, so it won't be long before everyone finds out. It's probably for the best, since they won't underestimate us and should leave us alone. Still, there is the matter of this Dragonborn business."

He chewed at his lip thoughtfully, considering what they might do as he watched the sun move across the sky. "I think that might come in handy, actually. The Dragonborn seems to be a sort of Nerevar of the north, and I think you could well achieve a sort of understanding with the Nords if you kept fulfilling this prophecy, just as you did with the Dunmer and the Nerevarine Prophecy. Perhaps you were meant to reunite this broken land and take it back on the narrow way. After all, you once told me that Tiber Septim wouldn't have wanted this for his people."

"From what Barenziah told me of him, no. He probably would have been a little horrified that he has been turned into a deity. No, he was too humble, too fair. He would never have elevated himself to the state of a god, anything but. His idea was a united empire, and if he knew now that his empire is now being divided because of this, I'm sure he would writhe in his deep grave."

"Hm, going to play hero again, then?"

"I already have been, I can at least do so by choice." Nodding, feeling more resolute than she had for a great many years, she finally had an idea where to go from here. "Alright, I will go speak to those Greybeards. They are masters of this power just as we are masters of our own magics, and the best way to learn magic is through a master. I will do whatever they have me do, build up my reputation with them and the others among the holds as well. I'll do just as I did in House Telvanni, and make myself invisible until I am impossible to remove."

"A good plan, though Nords are not Telvanni. They won't be ignorant to your actions, which may be both bad and good. Whatever you might do, I will follow."

A more somber look crossed her face, though it was rather hard to tell such an expression from a sad one. "I can't just ask you to follow me around without question. There must be something you wish to do as well."

He faked being affronted, brows raised dramatically. "Me? Do something else? Surely you're joking! Following the new Dragonborn on a journey to discover all sorts of historical treasures, ruins, and who knows what else? I rather like getting into trouble with you, you know. If I were left to my own devices I wouldn't be able to entertain myself half as much. You were burdened with prophecy the first time we met and I itched to forget my duties and join you on your quest. I couldn't possibly pass up the chance to experience all of the places this will take you."

"Alright then." She smiled, already feeling less guilty about her fate dragging them along on its merciless strings. "If you like trouble so much, let's go make some."

* * *

Laje-tal was bored. Purely, utterly bored. The Greybeards had been nice enough, and they had indeed filled her in on what her powers meant, but did they really have to go on and on like this? They had only offered to teach her more if she sat there and listened to their speech about the way of the voice, the meaning of Kynareth's blessing, all sorts of things she didn't particularly care about but still listened to. Once they mentioned the first battle of Red Mountain and that interested her for a moment, but then it came back to what they learned from it and oh, how dull! Even Aryon looked bored, and he had been busying himself with drawing the interior of the building and a few of the Greybeards themselves.

During the hour spent here, she learned the second part of her new spell followed by a different spell, both of which the Greybeards called a shout. Honestly it just seemed like a three part spell, but she didn't correct them. After that, it had been one dull speech after another, with only a few tantalizing bits and pieces thrown in. At long last they were done introducing her to each other, the monastery and the things she should and should not do, and it was with great relief that she returned to Aryon's side at the edge of the room. "Daedra and Divines, I thought they would never be done talking."

Aryon didn't laugh at her nonsense like usual, instead pondering over the many notes and drawings he had made, pointing out a few in particular. "Well while you were busy shouting, I picked up a few things I found interesting about this power of yours. Not only that, but the very severe honor it is to even be here. According to what I have been hearing, you are the first to be summoned here since Tiber Septim himself, and he too had this shouting power."

Her brows raised at that. "Is that so? I had better not be the next in line for emperor or I am seriously going to consider throwing myself before Mephala and beg her stop tampering with my fate."

Now he did laugh, but he soon returned to pointing out more notes. "I can't quite say as much but I know you are in a very good position now in the eyes of the Nords. Even if you don't take this any farther, you are the Dragonborn and you were summoned by the Greybeards just like Tiber Septim. Why, we could even say you have his soul in you, guiding you through all of this."

She snorted. "I already have Nerevar in here, I don't think I have room for anyone else. He could be in me too for all I know, I don't exactly sense Nerevar's presence in me constantly, just now and then. Who knows how many souls are trying to share me?"

"As long as they allow me the better share of you, then it's fine." Grinning, he pointed out one last thing. "These Greybeards also mentioned a leader, one who knows well their way of the voice. It was so odd though what they called him. Paarthurnax? Does that sound like any name, Nord or otherwise, that you have ever heard before? It sounds old, very old. I wonder if their leader is not human."

"Probably not. It wouldn't surprise me if that leader is a dragon. How else to best master this way of the voice than by way of one that has known it forever? It's not impossible that one dragon or more has learned that man might be worked alongside with, and not just eaten or destroyed."

"A brilliant notion! Yes, a dragon would have to be hidden in those obscuring clouds at the top, wouldn't it? Safe from prying eyes and all of that. I'm sure you'll find out once those Greybeards let you, but wouldn't that be such a thing, to converse with a dragon so ancient?"

"It would," she agreed. "Let's not get our hopes up, though. We don't know yet. Anything else?"

"Hm, just this. I found a book with a curious mention of Numidium in it." He took out a book from his pack, _The Book of the Dragonborn_, and showed her the last passage. "See, the Brass Tower, and the Thrice Blessed. I'll bet that's the Tribunal, and we know Numidium is that thing that Dagoth Ur made a replica of, copying what the Dwemer had made before. And here, Red Tower trembles? Surely that must be Red Mountain. The Dragonborn ruler loses his throne and White Tower falls. That would be the death of the last of the Septim line, followed by the siege on the Imperial City. Then this Snow Tower lying sundered, kingless and bleeding. Ulfric Stormcloak killed High King Torygg and the throne of Skyrim is under contention. Finally the world-eater wakes? That was that black dragon, Alduin. You really do have a good deal of prophecy following you about."

"Indeed, and I don't like where this book is going with its mentions of Reman Cyrodiil and Tiber Septim. Dragonborn emperors, chosen for the throne! I want none of that, it would very much get in the way of all the things I have yet to study."

"I'm a bit puzzled by the mention of Numidium, though. In this passage it is mentioned in sequence, and the mention of Numidium is before this part that must mention the warp in the west. Ah, the original Numidium, of course! I remember now, that mention in _The Progress of Truth_ that had been restricted during your Nerevarine path. The Tribunal had Numidium, it would explain how Dagoth Ur got wind of it and made that copy. They gave it to Tiber Septim. Ah and there was the totem of Tiber Septim, when the dragon broke and five people held it simultaneously. I haven't thought about that in so many years. Did you know that the Underking at the time was thought to have created an anti-magic zone for a time with that totem?"

"How curious."

"Now, as for that entry on Numidium, I remember that it had been surrendered as part of the Armistice between Morrowind and the new empire. This section about misrule and the eight corners refers to Jagar Tharn. That would make this prophecy of yours even older than we first thought."

"It all goes back to Alduin, who seems to predate written history. There is a great deal in that book about the Blades, I remember that Imperial who introduced me to the idea of the Nerevarine prophecy as being a member of the Blades. Yes, right here, Akaviri dragonslayers, using the Dragonborn people of their time to kill and steal dragon souls. Well, if there are any Blades left, we will surely be found by them."

"Probably." Putting away the book he turned once again to his notes, humming thoughtfully. "The Greybeards want you to retrieve this horn of their leader. If you do it I'm sure they will have more to teach you, even if they do end up boring you half to death."

She shook her head, chuckling. "It wasn't quite so bad, really, but it's better that you are the one making the notes. You always could endure that constant droning better than I could."

"No, you were always just a terrible listener." Dodging her retaliating swipe with ease, he didn't take back his words. "You were and you know it."

With a sigh she more or less agreed with him. "I suppose that's true sometimes, though I have gotten more used to listening to the likes of you."

"All for the better, I'm sure. Let's return to Ivarstead, we already dropped off those supplies that that villager Klimmek wanted us to take in, and I don't know about you but a night at the inn sounds like a good time to go over this further."

She grumbled, already feeling the weariness set in. "Honestly Aryon I couldn't agree more."

* * *

Being ambushed by strange cultists the moment they set foot out of the inn that morning hadn't been in their plans, certainly, but happen it did. They were of course looking for the new Dragonborn, and they did indeed find her, but they didn't end up claiming her heart as they so boldly proclaimed. No, they were now quite dead and as Laje-tal picked over their bodies, looking for clues, she finally found a note that made both of them frown. "Miraak? Who is this Miraak?"

Aryon was just as clueless as she was. "Those cultists called him the true Dragonborn, but I've never heard of anyone like him. This note shows they came from Solstheim, and I bet they had a boat ready to take them right back. Windhelm again... This doesn't sound good at all. I think those were members of the dragon cult that was mentioned in a couple books I saw. Hm, so what now?"

"What indeed. Now we have two problems on our hands. I suppose we had better look into this one now while we still can. I have a feeling that the further I delve into my involvement in the dragons, the harder it is going to be to get away from it if these cultists become a problem. No, I won't risk more of them attacking us later. It looks like we should go to Solstheim next."

"It will be interesting to see that place again after such a long time. I wonder what it looks like."

"Raven Rock is still there as far as I know, and the Skaal. I'm sure it's mostly unrecognizable, since I heard the eruption affected even that place. I guess we will be seeing it sooner than expected."

Aryon just nodded, checking his gear. "Let us go, then. I am with you."

* * *

The journey to Windhelm was more or less quiet, but the captain of _The Northern Maiden_ had been anything but. He had had his own encounter with the same cultists, and from his description he sounded like he had been under their control and had taken them to Windhelm against his will. Every piece of evidence they were finding was getting more and more interesting. The man had of course refused to take them, but after promising to give the cultists a fair share of payback, he had finally agreed to take them. After several hours on the boat, the mountains of Solstheim came in sight.

"This place is just swarming with Dunmer," Laje-tal commented, looking around at the town of Raven Rock. "Looks like House Redoran took the whole place over."

Aryon peered out from the boat as well, taking it all in. "Makes sense. After the Imperials left and this place was turned over to the refugees, House Redoran would be the sort to take advantage of it."

Soon the ship docked, letting them out, and the first thing they encountered was a Dunmer stopping them and calling them outlanders and outsiders. Well, he had no way of knowing that not only had they been there before, but they were the ones who had helped start Raven Rock to begin with. Still, one thing he had mentioned stuck out, and once out of the Dunmer's hearing, Laje-tal turned to Aryon to mention it. "He said Councilor Morvayn. Do you suppose Brara Morvayn heeded our warning?"

"Maybe, but did you hear how confused he was about Miraak? It's just like with that sailor. It's like everyone might know him but they forgot, but he did mention an earth stone. We had probably better go look at it and see what all the trouble is."

They followed the docks to where the few they asked said the earth stone was, and as they approached, they couldn't begin to understand what was happening. Citizens and Redoran guards alike were building a strange construct around the stone, half dazed and muttering strange words as they did so. As they came closer, looking at the stone with complete confusion, a very familiar voice called to them from the sidelines. "You there! Yes, you! You don't appear to be quite in the same state as the rest of these people." When he came closer, though, Laje-tal barely held back a groan.

"Oh stars above, it's Neloth."

The Telvanni wizard looked at her with a strange combination of amusement and malcontent, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well if it isn't the mighty Arch-Magister Laje-tal. I thought you would be quite dead by now."

"I contracted the corprus disease as you recall, or maybe your mind is addled in your old age."

"Charming as always, aren't you? Well surely someone of your... great standing must have some... grand reason for coming all the way out here."

Before Laje-tal had a chance to let loose on the many things she wanted to say, Aryon intervened, questioning Neloth more calmly. "I couldn't help but notice these people are building a strange structure. Any idea what it is?"

"Hmph... well no, but it is clearly something and I am just itching to see what. It must be something powerful or important to have enslaved even the guards. Where have you even been all this time, Aryon?"

"I think I had better be asking you where you were during the Oblivion crisis, hadn't I? Where were you when all of those portals had been opening, when every last mage was struggling to their last to hold them at bay?"

Neloth predictably grew defensive, arms crossed over his chest haughtily. "I had already come to Solstheim the year before and I wasn't about to pack up and leave all over again! It's not my fault that I had seen the signs of coming disaster and acted upon it!"

"And here you are again, not even trying to help stop these people from doing whatever it is they are doing against their wills. Who is doing this? Is it this Miraak we keep hearing about?"

Now he seemed puzzled, eyes going blank for a moment. "Miraak? That... sounds so familiar but... how strange. It couldn't be Miraak, he is long dead. No, I don't know, it just slips my mind every time I think on it."

Aryon traded a significant look with Laje-tal, both unnerved that even Neloth had been partly caught up in all of this. "Aren't you going to stop them?"

"Of course not! How could I ever see what they were making if I stopped them?"

"By Azura..."

"If it matters to you that much there is a temple of Miraak near the center of this island, I'm sure you and your... Dragonborn will have a warm reception. After all, Argonians must feel so very close to the dragons being so very... scaled, and horned and... full of energy. Yes, you had better be careful with that one, Aryon, she looks about ready to bite me this very second."

His eyes narrowed but he showed no other outward signs of annoyance. "Yes, my wife never did like someone speaking about her as if she were a beast, and I don't like it either. I might bite you myself if I have a mind to."

"You never had a mind to do anything but play with Ashlanders and Imperials, why-" Suddenly he paused, the moment finally hitting him. "Your wife? You really... seriously! How did you even... no, don't tell me, _please_ don't tell me. Really? You... hah!" He started laughing, the harsh sound quickly getting on both their nerves. "An Argonian and a Dunmer, think of it! Oh this is too good!" His laughing only worsened, and before long he retreated, clutching his gut and turning away from them. Well, that was Neloth.

Oddly enough Laje-tal didn't appear bothered by the conversation, only smiling calmly and getting ready to leave. "Come on. Let's get out of here while he's occupied." Next to her Aryon gave her an odd look but went along with it, following after her until they rounded the docks and were out of sight. Suddenly she grabbed him, dragging him into the bushes, the grin on her face full of what was definitely going to be trouble for both of them. "This is perfect!"

Still a bit ruffled by being dragged into a pile of trama roots, he disentangled himself enough to face her. "What was all of that about?"

"Don't you see? That structure is so huge and intricate, it will take those workers a good week or more to finish it, and guess who will be there watching it the whole time!"

"Neloth, of course."

"Of course, and this means his stronghold might be empty! He may have scrounged up a retainer or two but I'll bet his main tower has hardly a soul. He never did like having too many people around distracting him."

"Hm, I like where this is going."

"Did you see those robes he was wearing? I'll bet he has extras for us to... borrow. I wouldn't take anything else of course, but after his very... gracious reception of us, it is only fitting to bring him a housewarming gift."

He only grinned with her. "Gods I love you."


	6. Chapter 6

"Damn, he only has three chairs," Laje-tal complained, taking the few chairs they found and stacking one atop the other in a precarious tower on top of one of his tables. "This should work well enough. Aryon, do you have any chalk?"

He fished around in his pockets but only found a stub of charcoal. "Here, it's all I have."

"Good enough." Looking around to make sure they were still in the clear, she scribbled markings on the table near the stacked chairs. They had found his little citadel after asking enough people where it was. Neloth had apparently made himself quite known to the locals. That, and it was pretty hard to miss the enormous mushroom growing out of the plain dirt. "It's a good thing that apprentice of his is so absorbed in his work out there that he barely noticed us. Ah, I haven't written in Daedric script for so long. Did I get this right?"

"Looks about right." Looking closer at what she wrote, he shook his head. "Scrawlings from the Sixth House? Oh he won't believe that, will he?"

"Hopefully not or he really is getting lax in his attentions. I just want him to know quite well who has been here. Now if I can just remember what that glyph looked like..."

"I think I sketched it once when we were near Kogoruhn." In all of the papers stuffed in his journal, though, only one had the smallest sketch of the odd glyph that seemed to be all over anything the Sixth House built. "It's small, will this work?"

"Better than nothing. It's not smudged, at least." Getting the glyph as accurate as possible, knowing that when Neloth found out he would remark on her craftsmanship, she took care with the soft charcoal, the rune large and clear on the table. "Perfect. Do you have a daedra heart?"

"I'm not a merchant, my dear."

"Ah well. We'll have to improvise." They continued in their odd vandalism, never taking anything but arranging several objects in strange fashions, writing more Daedric nonsense on a couple walls. "Good enough. We had better get out of here before that apprentice of his gets discouraged enough with his project to come back in."

"Or bungles it." He frowned, recalling the other Dunmer outside. "Actually we had better go check on him. If he was reading from something that Neloth wrote, he's bound to do it wrong. He never did write legibly."

"And that fool was attempting conjuration from it. Let's see if he managed to get himself killed."

Outside Tel Mithryn, the sorcerer's apprentice had indeed bungled the spell somehow, summoning a very hostile ash guardian, the beast now running wild in the compound. Both of them sighed at the result, but luckily they were all enough together to kill the monster quickly. Oddly enough this worked in their favor, as they were able to very easily suggest that the man stay away from the area for a while just in case Neloth came back. It would give things time to cool down, of course. While he ran off to some unknown location they shared a grin, this plan going better than hoped. Evading the handful of others on the grounds they escaped a bit north, but suddenly Laje-tal stopped. "By the Hist..."

Knowing she rarely used that term Aryon came up behind her, turning to see what had caught her eye. Ahead in the distance, heaps upon heaps of ash clouds still poured from Red Mountain, much more clearly visible from here than anywhere else on the island. Sludgy, sick water lapped up onto the shore, reeking of sulfur, debris and more ash. "What a sight. Even all the way out here the smell is strong."

"It's all of these dead fish, too." Skeletons of dead fish were everywhere on shore, all in various stages of decomposition. A few horkers had washed up as well, their corpses pained and grisly. Stripped trees covered the hills, deep in ash and clearly dead or dying. "I can't even imagine the extent of the damage on Vvardenfell."

"I did see two books on the accounts of those still on the island while it happened. I don't know how those survivors even found the words for what they described."

"I suppose after the Oblivion crisis those words were already on their lips." Stopping to crouch on the ground she took a handful of the ashy sand, feeling the texture and smelling it, the energy in all of it clear and distinct. "Hmph. No wonder he likes it out here. The ash and sand is just full of latent energy. It's perfect for the sorts of experiments he prefers."

"Out of the others I've known who can actually sniff out magic, not one of them could ever tell me what exactly it smells like."

"That's because it doesn't, not exactly." Brushing away the dust from her lately acquired Telvanni robes she considered how to describe the feeling. "It's just there and I can smell it."

"Do you suppose Neloth can sense it?"

"No, I don't think so. Not the same way, at least. He probably used a device to find a good area, maybe instinct, maybe just seeing where the most ash was. Now that I think of it, didn't he say that Miraak was already long dead? I wonder where he first learned of him."

"Now that is curious." Joining her as they followed a side road, heading to where Miraak's old temple was, he puzzled over how Neloth could have known such a thing. "He was already an old man by the time I joined the house, he could have learned it anywhere. I wonder... you know, he is an expert enchanter, maybe his interest in it led him to looking into how the Dragonborn would use dragon souls. It can't be too different from the idea of soul gems, only you are instantly enchanting yourself to know these shouts. Maybe-" He paused, pointing ahead on the path. "Look at that!"

A large dragon skeleton lay draped across the road, the very position of it looking like it had died in pain. "Looks like we're going in the right direction. If I remember right it sounded like Miraak's temple was in the same place as the tree stone is."

"It must have been excavated, then. It wasn't here during the bloodmoon."

"Hard to say, this place always held all sorts of strange secrets." More and more skeletons were found as they drew closer to the old temple, the gray sky and land all making them edgy with the suspense hanging around the area. Dark stone arches, a wide pavilion and tiered steps, almost like an arena, circled the tree stone, the ancient monolith the center of the action. Below Nords worked to build the monstrosity, their clothing and bearing quite different from the usual sort of Nords they knew. Laje-tal recognized them. "The Skaal. It would be like someone bent on conquering all to enslave even the peaceful Skaal." Everyone was enthralled. Almost everyone. Amidst them was a lone woman, the only sane one there, trying to bring her comrades to their senses.

Aryon gestured to where a couple more cultists were emerging from the ruins. "Look, from underground. The entrance is down there. We had better help her. The Skaal can be fierce warriors when needed but one alone isn't much against what could probably be more below."

"Right." They hurried into the middle, blades and magic hitting the cultists hard while the Nord woman sliced at them with her sword. Both were disposed of quickly, and once it was all over the woman explained that it was indeed her people the Skaal that were being enslaved here at the tree stone. Laje-tal frowned at the idea of the descendants of the people she had once called her friends being enslaved by Miraak. "We must free them, then. However it must be done."

The descent into the dungeon had begun just like the many others they had already been through, but it quickly became clear that Frea took them for complete newcomers. Sure, the comments she had made in the start had been slightly helpful, but the further they went in, the more irritating she became. "Be careful here, this place looks like it might be full of traps."

Of course it was full of traps. It was Miraak's temple. Of course there were hidden passages. Yes, naturally she should be the one to disable the axe trap. Steeling herself against her annoyance, she concentrated on the fact that the woman at least had the sense to avoid things she wasn't prepared for. Timing the axes just so, she let out her new shout. "Wuld!" Her dash was well timed, and once the next set of axes fell to her satisfaction, she let out one more shout to dash to the end, disabling the traps. Aryon had also had the sense to stay back, but he also had the sense not to advise her on what to do. If he ever did, she heeded his advice, but that Nord woman just wouldn't shut her mouth.

"Good, now we can continue on. I'm sure we will find more about Miraak if we keep going."

Aryon looked amused by the whole thing but he knew his wife too well to think she felt the same. He offered her a wry grimace at the Nord's behavior. "She's just trying to be helpful."

Laje-tal only groaned. "I wish she would learn the value of neglect, then. It's hard to sneak up on draugr with her yelling to the whole world that there might be traps in a place like this."

Along the way was another wall full of dragon language, one of the words speaking yet another shout to her. Miraak apparently loved home decorating dragon style, and Frea loved pointing it out. Along with so many other things. Over and over. Further in a staircase led down and yet again Frea pointed out the obvious. "Look, it just goes deeper and deeper, I wonder how far it goes. The answer must be down there somewhere."

Privately Aryon was taking bets with himself on how long Laje-tal would tolerate this, her teeth already gritting with frustration. To her credit she grinned and bore it, and he owed himself a septim. One more comment about their journey, though, had been the end of it for her, and the Argonian grabbed Frea by the shoulder, pinning her against a nearby wall. "By the stars, woman, would you be silent already? We will never get through this if we go yelling to our enemies that we are here! I am two hundred and thirty eight years old, several of those years spent in the tombs of Morrowind, many more spent in Dwemer ruins, I know what sorts of dangers lay in a crypt! Any fool can see that this place is treacherous!"

Next to her Aryon couldn't help but point out one small thing. "Speaking of yelling, those draugr don't look like they were ignoring us."

"Gods Aryon but you frustrate me sometimes." The two mages and the Nord killed the many draugr that blocked their path, and eventually they came to a great chamber deep underneath the earth. It was clearly littered with tripwires and traps, but one very hard look at the Nord warned her not to mention it. Laje-tal pointed to the side, where the room was dark and easier to sneak around in. Aryon nodded, creeping after her on the edges. They avoided the draugr for the most part, sneaking up on the ones they could and killing silently. Much of the room was cleared out in this manner, leaving the gatekeeper above and a few others the only ones left. With the numbers dwindled, it was short work taking care of the rest.

Without much of an idea of where to go next, they followed the one winding path that led to a strange chamber. In this oppressive room it felt as if the walls were closing in, reacting to the power that surged from the book that lay on the pedestal, stark black and utterly filling the air with energy. Laje-tal approached it warily, not seeing anything else in the room of note. "It reeks of dark power."

Aryon came near it as well, feeling the air around it with a cautious hand. "Yes, it all but vibrates with it. This is Daedric, to be sure."

Unsurprisingly Frea backed away, repulsed by the caustic feeling that leaked from the book. "That thing is evil. Surely this must be the tool that Miraak used to gain his power."

"Of course," he stated plainly. "Hm, but how? Well, this is certainly Daedric, and I can think of only one Daedric lord that takes such an intense interest in books and knowledge. This is the work of Hermaeus Mora."

Laje-tal nodded, comprehending what he was getting at. "That makes sense. As the Daedric lord of knowledge, he would have known the sorts of things that Miraak would need to know to do all that he has done. There must be some dragon knowledge that he is now using to enslave mortals to build for him. Such a thing doesn't exist on so great a scale in the usual magics. I suppose there is no helping it but to read the book."

"Probably not. You'll likely summon Hermaeus Mora with it, or perhaps even go to his plane in Apocrypha. As the Dragonborn, you should catch his interest enough for him not to kill you outright. He might even be bargained with for the same knowledge that Miraak learned."

She frowned at that. "Treating with a Daedric lord such as him is chancy. With Daedra like Azura, or even Mehrunes Dagon, it isn't hard to know what to expect. They reward their champions and reward them well, no matter the nature of the task they expect to be performed. Hermaeus Mora, though, may just as well decide to reward you as decide that you would be better off dead if it seemed logical or if it pleased him."

"I don't see any other way of releasing the victims of this power from their bonds. If you can learn Miraak's power, you might be able to negate or find a way to counteract it."

"Yes, you're right. The best way to counter a spell is to learn it yourself. I'm sure there must be some sort of artifact he might want, I will try and treat with him." The moment she reached for the book, though, Frea shouted at her.

"No! Don't, that book is evil! Who knows what could come from it! There could be anything in there!"

She only glanced back at the woman with a grim look. "That's what I'm counting on." Without any further hesitation she grabbed the book, opening it to read it. Her eyes barely skimmed half of the first page before she was seized by several dark, slimy tentacles, dragged into the realm of the book in a haze of green energy. Outside herself her companions watched on, looking at her eyes go blank and her posture freeze as her soul drifted into the other world.

Nervous, Frea backed away even more, looking horrified. "What just happened?"

Aryon only sat near the edge of the room, content to wait until whatever end would come. "As I thought, she is most likely now in the realm of Hermaeus Mora."

She looked even more troubled by his nonchalance. "Will she be alright? Aren't you worried?"

"If Miraak should be there, he would underestimate her, I'm sure. If she finds Hermaeus Mora, he would know her to be powerful enough to be a champion for him rather than just a pawn." He shook his head. "Of course, I will always have some small concern. That sort of thing doesn't go away, no matter how many years pass. We have been married a long time, though, and we have learned what we can and can't do. She can do this."

Frea slowly relaxed somewhat under his confidence, though of course she didn't let her guard down. "You have a strange wife."

He only grinned at that. "We suit each other."

At that moment Laje-tal returned to herself, lurching back from the force of it and heaving against some great strain. Closing the book with a stormy look on her face, she stuffed the cursed book away in her pack before turning to her companions sharply. Her anger was palpable, reflected in a dark sneer and narrowed eyes, but she was hardly angry at them. "That damnable Miraak, he got away from me. He is indeed in Apocrypha, and what a place it is. It fits his sort. He has a terrible shout, one that managed to catch me off guard." Her frown deepened, the source of her rage plain. "I can't believe I could have allowed that, but his shout left me paralyzed. I couldn't do a thing, and that look on his face as he sent me away! There must be some other way to reach him, to use the same knowledge of that shout to avoid it next time."

Aryon looked just as troubled as she. "If he does indeed have that kind of shout, you could hardly be blamed for being caught off guard by it. It might have been only your Dragonborn blood that protected you from being controlled by him entirely. Honestly I would have rather you met with Hermaeus Mora instead."

"I would have had that too, but it is what it is. There is one thing I figured out, though, and that is this book leads to where Miraak is, and it is also Apocrypha. If I can find a way to go back there, I could find either him or Mora, probably both. It seems the only way to reach Miraak."

Frea came closer then, looking confident though there was a touch of fear in her voice. "You had better come talk to my father about this. He is our shaman, and would know more about these terrible magics. He won't be able to protect the Skaal much longer."

"No, he won't. Daedric power is a hard thing to counteract if it can be done at all. Well, at least the Skaal should accept me. I know none will be alive who remember me, but I have done their trials before and I will do them again if I need to. Let's go see what he has to say about this book."

Outside the temple little had changed except for the sun's position in the sky, the day waning. They were already so near the Felstaad region, though, and it wasn't a long travel to the Skaal village. Aside from the small differences in the houses and the layout of the village, nothing had changed since the time of the Bloodmoon. It was almost eerie, being in a place so familiar. Two villagers and the shaman were desperately weaving magic in a circle, no doubt trying to ward off the worst of the enthralling magics, but it wouldn't be enough. Barely enough as it was, and it wouldn't last.

Frea went to greet her father, informing him of what they had learned. After a moment of consideration, her father Storn agreed to talk it all over with the newcomers. Laje-tal, though, was not about to let him think that she was a newcomer, and spared no words as she went to greet him. It mattered little if the Skaal knew who she was. "Thank you for receiving us, Storn, but this is not the first time we have been among the Skaal. The last I was here, Korst Wind-Eye was shaman, and the Bloodmoon was causing trouble instead of this dragon priest."

Naturally Storn was surprised and not just a little suspicious. He motioned for the two to sit near him, though, and seemed at least willing to hear them. "I do recall Korst Wind-Eye being in a story or two of ours, and of course we have tales of the Bloodmoon over two hundred years ago. The legends of Hircine's great hunt has always held a great significance to us. You must be the stranger, the Nerevarine that the Skaal called Blodskaal, something done only rarely with outsiders. Well. Maybe you are that person, but you are also Dragonborn, are you not?"

She showed him the moon and star ring, ever there as proof of her story, and nodded. "Yes, both. Even if I hadn't been Dragonborn, I would have still tried to find something to help you. Your ancestors were very helpful in a time when I badly needed it, I'm hardly going to forget that. If I can help you by getting the same power Miraak has, then I'll go and get it. I wouldn't be tempted to use it the way he has. Why would I? I am already immortal as the Nerevarine, I am powerful as a Telvanni, and I have always found myself working for what I have rather than demanding it."

"As well it should be. I can't agree with the ways of those who are not Skaal, who take what they do not need, but maybe by being one with so much, you can be trusted with this. Maybe not. You saw Miraak in the book, and he clearly made a pact with a great and terrible power, and so will you. You might even be the end of us, but that isn't for anyone to know yet. I do know of a mountain near here, one where a dragon has taken to living on, that should hold the knowledge you are looking for." He frowned, looking at them both, though he still concentrated on his magic. "You said you are Telvanni? Both of you?"

"Yes, that's right."

"I heard of another black book, one shown to me by the wizard Neloth. I believe he once said something about being of the Telvanni. If that book of yours is anything like his, he should know where there might be more. If you could get that power, though, on the mountain and free my people, maybe even cleanse the other stones, that too should help slow Miraak down while you search for the book. I have heard that sometimes wizards can be difficult to deal with, and you might need a good deal of time bought with that power."

It was her turn to frown. "I know Neloth, and you are right. He won't be glad to hear from me again, but if he has more of those books, I will get them. I didn't become Arch-Magister by just sitting around and scheming, and if he has forgotten that, I will make him remember. More importantly, I will do what I can to keep as many of those books as possible in my hands and not his. There's no telling what he would do with the power to control a population. It's just a good thing that he isn't Dragonborn, but the Greybeards have proven that you don't need to be Dragonborn to learn to shout, you just need a great deal of time. Neloth is an elf and Telvanni, he would have the time."

Next to her Aryon nodded ruefully. "That, and he is already gifted in enchanting. If we can, we should make this power seem as if it can only be done by those Dragonborn, and not just anyone with enough time and determination. The more we can make this look like an exclusive power, the less interested he should be. Maybe. It might make him even more ambitious, but who can say. We could even make it seem like it has no use other than negating the same power. I'm not sure how to go about it, but thinking of something like that in Neloth's hands isn't something I care to think of."

"No, he's already doing things I mistrust with those ash guardians. Usually I would leave well enough alone with other Telvanni and their pursuits, but I think it would be better to keep a closer eye on him."

"That it would. If he gets out of hand, we would have to put an end to it."

"He knew what he was getting himself into when he joined House Telvanni, just as we did. Disagreements are settled in the simplest ways among us. We can't say yet what he might do, so let's just find out more about these books for the moment." She grinned at him slyly. "Besides, I want to know what he thinks of my very artistic rendition of how his house should look."

* * *

"I know perfectly well how to operate a Dwemer device, Neloth," Laje-tal groaned. "While you were sifting about through the ash, I have spent the last hundred some years studying Dwemer machinery. I hardly need your instruction."

Neloth, though, could hardly resist needling her further as she struggled to lift a rather heavy pipe out of the way of the machine they were trying to activate. "Oh I doubt you have seen anything like this mechanism, though, the sort that can raise and lower the water level. You'll be needing my help whether you like it or not."

"I highly doubt that, but since I know you will follow me around regardless if only to see if I trip on my own tail, you may as well make yourself useful. Scout up ahead and see if there are any active animunculi."

"Bah, I don't take orders from you. No I think I like where I am." He sat down on a nearby rock, clearly enjoying his leisure as she struggled.

Thankfully Aryon could always be counted on to help, and his hands lit up with a light spell as he prepared to move ahead. "I'll go take a look."

She snorted in defiance. "At least someone around here has sense." Finally the pipe moved, freeing up a pedestal designed to take the cube Neloth had loaned her to open up just such a thing. It was connected to the door nearby, the glowing connectors still giving off a faint brightness after all these years. "That should do it. Oh come now, Neloth, there must be something else you can do besides look like a petulant child who had his sweetroll taken away."

If anything his frown only made him look more like that. "Your status as Arch-Magister doesn't mean anything around here, oh great Nerevarine. You should be glad I'm helping you get your book at all, especially after what you did to my tower! I don't even need the blasted thing myself." He watched from his perch as she fussed with the device, not just using it outright but observing how it worked, making notes in her notepad. As she muttered something profane in Jel, he did at least admit- never out loud of course- that she did at least go about this sort of thing correctly. That line of thought didn't last long. "What are you mumbling about over there? Obviously the lines on the lexicon line up with the ones on the pedestal."

"I know that," she protested, looking deeper into the pedestal. "I'm looking under the cracks. There's something down there. Looks like wires, but what else could it have been? Curse it all, would that I could take this apart." Her language slipped again as she grew more puzzled, most of it sounding like nonsense.

"How do you do that?"

"What?" Not sure what he meant she looked up at him, not liking being distracted from this peculiar technology.

"How do you speak half in the Argonian tongue and half in one I can understand? If I remember right, you never spent much time with your own kind." He slurred that last bit with clear derision, though as always she ignored it. "I can't imagine where you could have learned much more than the most common sayings."

"I just know it," she admitted, not even sure exactly how she could do such a thing consciously. "I think of it, it comes out."

He scoffed. "Why Nerevar chose you of all people I will never understand." Despite his previous upset at the redecorating of his house, on top of all the many other things she had done in the past whenever she was displeased, his curiosity about the several questions he had never had the chance to ask overcame his personal feelings, much as they usually did. "Any Dunmer would have given everything to have been the one chosen as the Nerevarine, and what? Not even an elf, one of the same that overran the country years later! You weren't even a Morrowind Argonian."

She knew what he meant by that. The Argonians that resided in the Vvardenfell province looked very different from her. Her scales were dark brown enough to be black, a red streak marking under her eyes and several reddish hues in her brow and rust on her neck. Most likely her kin had come from the outskirts of Gideon but she never knew. "It doesn't matter," she told herself as much as she told him. "I did what I did, and it ended up as it has."

"Oh but the things you could have done! The mysteries of Black Marsh have been the one thing that not one soul can find out about, you could have gone back with the Argonians, found out all of their dirty little secrets, come back to Morrowind and... well. Surely you know what sort of reception you would have gotten for such information in the courts of Blacklight."

That sounded dangerous, but she admitted he was right. If she had really wanted to disappear into anonymity in Black Marsh, she could have if she found enough Argonians that looked just like her. "I know, but I couldn't have. As much as the other Argonians have done against me, even indirectly, they are still my people. I couldn't betray them to the Dunmer any more than I could betray the Dunmer to the Argonians. There was a reason we left before the Accession War, and it wasn't just to save ourselves and others. Besides, Aryon is my husband."

"Yes, the Argonians would have eaten you both alive, I'm sure." He sounded outwardly sarcastic but she never believed the outward with him. "Wouldn't they, Aryon?"

She looked up in surprise as Aryon came back in, shaking the lightning out of his hands. He grimaced at Neloth. "That they would have. There were a few constructs out there, nothing I couldn't handle. It should be mostly clear once we need to head down there. Don't tell me you two were actually having a civil conversation in my absence."

Neloth finally came down from his seat, arms crossed as he regarded Aryon passively. "I was trying to ask all of those countless burning questions I've had ever since you both left. Even I can be civil if the reward is good enough, at least that's what the other councilors used to say behind my back."

"They said it to your face and left with no regrets. What have we got in there?" He peered down into the Dwemer pedestal where the lexicon was to go into, but this one did indeed have a better view of the inside. "Oh, you can see the wires in this one, how intriguing."

Neloth rolled his eyes as he sighed dramatically. "By my ancestors, would you just put the lexicon in so we can get on with this nonsense? I'm getting quite tired of wading around in this muck!"

Across from Laje-tal, Aryon gave her a sly grin out of Neloth's vision. "I could hardly pass up such an opportunity to study something like this. There isn't much like it on the mainland of Skyrim, especially not one that affects water levels. I would be a terrible scholar if I let such a moment slip."

She picked up on what he was getting at, following his grin with a look she knew Neloth wouldn't be able to read. "Agreed, this is too good of an opportunity to pass up. There's a connector rod, I think, leading down into the mechanism. I wonder if all of the doors are connected to a central device..." Back and forth they discussed the inner workings of the pedestal, Neloth looking more and more stormy as he waited for them to be done already. Finally they put in the lexicon, unlocking the door and proceeding into the large chamber ahead.

Water fell everywhere, some sloshing around in the lower level of the expansive room. A few Dwemer spiders roamed around but they were taken care of quickly by the three Telvanni. The air was thick with the moisture and several odd smells, but it all fell into the background in the ever interesting puzzle of the ancient machinery still working to this day in the ruins. Dealing with the water levels was consistently annoying, but if anything needed doing underwater, Laje-tal was at least fit for the role. At long last after a great deal of delving and puzzling, they got all of the boilers working, lowering the water levels enough to make it all work.

"Thank the gods that's over with," Neloth said with a whiny sigh. "Let's get that book out of there so you can both be well on your way."

Laje-tal regarded him with exaggerated surprise. "What, no more questions? No more insinuations? No more suggesting I'm an Argonian spy or at least that I should have been? My but you have changed since Vvardenfell."

Aryon chuckled at that. "An Argonian spy?"

"Among other things, of course. Oh you should have heard him during the times I was still in the lower ranks of the house. An Argonian spy, come to see the inner workings of the Telvanni to take down the house, take down the Dunmer, find all the things possible to make it fall apart from the inside. False Incarnate come to demoralize the nation and make it weak against invading forces, advocate of the Twin Lamps come to supersede the rights of natives, you name it. It was all quite creative."

"It sounds even more exciting than the truth. In comparison, being the Dragonborn Nerevarine sounds dull."

"Would you just read the book already?" Neloth had lost what little of his patience was left and stood nearby, awaiting the results. "I didn't come all the way out here for you to talk about me, I came to see you read this book and you had better do it before I force you!"

Laje-tal picked up the black book, not looking forward to this little adventure. "Don't kill each other while I'm gone," she said with a frown, bracing herself for the pull she knew was coming. Again she didn't get past the first page, the outer world falling away as she was dragged into the abyss that Hermaeus Mora called home.

As soon as she went still Aryon sat on the ground nearby, waiting patiently as before. With any luck this trip to Apocrypha would be longer than the last, Miraak gone on whatever errand had distracted him. It was a perfect time to add what he had observed in these ruins in the pages of his new journal. Ignoring Neloth's curious stare he did a few rough sketches of the Dwemer mechanisms, along with whatever strange things he had seen inside them. Eventually, though, that burning stare did provoke him into looking up at the offender sharply. "What?"

Neloth only looked away, pretending to be very interested in the wall. "Oh nothing. Just wondering how long this will take." When he didn't get a response he went back to what had been puzzling him since he had seen Aryon again after such a long time. He quite clearly remembered the angry, troubled boy that had come into the house at a very young age because of his amazing skill, very talented but very much untempered. Not one person knew what had happened to make the young Aryon's blood boil with such a degree of rage, but it had seemed hopeless to try to cure. Energy could be redirected, and soon it was diverted into his rebellious beliefs and policies as a Telvanni councilor, but not once did Neloth ever expect to see that same man here tamely sketching a scene while he awaited events that would change the world.

"It should take a bit longer this time," Aryon suddenly answered. "If Miraak isn't there, and he shouldn't be, then there should be the chance to make a bargain with Mora."

"No doubt he'll want knowledge for knowledge." He only received a small nod for his observation and once again he was almost baffled by the drastic change in this person he used to know. Normally he would have just assumed that the many past tragedies had changed him into this current version, but the more he thought on it, this process had started before even the Oblivion crisis. No, this had started... well. His brows furrowed at the obvious answer. "By Azura you've changed, Aryon."

Aryon only grinned up at him. "I suppose a couple hundred years might do that."

"No, not you, not like this. Bah, what would your ancestors have to say about what you've been doing? Argonians killed those parents of yours, you know. No doubt they would turn in their graves if they had one."

That jab earned him a darker look. "The actions of some of a population doesn't mean the entire population thinks the same way. Those were different times, even different Argonians."

"Oh but were they?" Leaning back against a nearby wall he went on with his sordid, unnecessary tale. "I think not. The Arnesian War, right? You were only fifty at the time, and you weren't there to see it happen. I was there, I saw them, and you know what? Most of them looked just like her."

"That seems logical," he said passively, knowing Neloth was just trying to provoke him as usual. "She did mention that her parents were in that same war. It doesn't matter."

"Doesn't matter! I would have been far more discerning than you to throw such a simple caution to the wind! What if you had been wrong?"

"Then I would have been proven a fool." He pointed at Neloth with his pen. "But I wasn't, and here I am now. As hard as it was, the best thing to happen to me was losing my stronghold and being forced to follow my own advice and see the world beyond what I knew. I stopped yearning for adventure and instead sought it, experienced it. I no longer worried about what was expected of me, what I should be doing with myself. If that made me different, then so be it."

Neloth was, for once, left mollified and speechless. Suddenly all of his years of work pursuing undoubtedly useful yet singular and closed magics all seemed like they were just small specks in the enormity of what was still to be learned in the world. It was mollifying because he had to be taught such a small concept by someone so much younger than him. He didn't have long to mull that over as Laje-tal returned from Apocrypha, looking bothered but somewhat optimistic. "Well? What does he want?"

She put down the book, still shaking off the feeling of coming back after this extended trip. "Knowledge, of course. This, though... He wants to know the secrets of the Skaal of all things."

"Hah! You came out on the better half of that bargain, certainly! What could he possibly need to know from them?"

"I'm not sure. There are some things unique to the Skaal that won't be found elsewhere, but most of it is harmless enough even if it leaked into the outside world by some other intrepid idiot wandering into Mora's grasp. I just don't know if the Skaal will agree to this."

Aryon rose from the floor, going to her side. "As you said, most of what they know isn't worth much to outsiders. I'm sure the Skaal know that just as well as we do. They can't keep hiding it purely out of principle if it means leaving their people to being enslaved by Miraak."

"No, I suppose not. It's good that we already cleansed the other stones, even if the tree stone is still tainted. If I can learn the rest of this shout, I should be able to release the last of it."

"Does that mean we can finally get out of here?" Neloth said with his usual touch of asperity. "I'm starting to forget what the sun looks like."

"Go on, then, if you are itching to leave so quickly. I do believe you have some cleaning to do."

Neloth bristled at her reminder of the mess he still had waiting back at home but he was just too fed up with this whole situation to retaliate. "I've got my eye on you now, Argonian, but you had better watch your back as well. Don't think I won't let this little incident of yours slide just because you are useful." With that he turned on his heel and left briskly, no doubt already focused on something other than what he had spent the last several hours doing.

As soon as he was gone Laje-tal sighed, leaning against a nearby column. "Let us hope we never have to do something like that again."

Aryon came next to her, looking through the notes he had made idly. "At least we had the opportunity to explore these ruins, and like it or not, we would not have been able to access it without Neloth's lexicon." As he edited a couple passages, he seemed somewhat lost in thought, as if something else was on his mind, and it wasn't too hard to hazard a guess at what it was.

"He said something to you while I was gone, didn't he?"

"What?" Looking up from the hastily scribbled sketch of a spider centurion he was trying to clean up, he was caught a bit off guard by her perceptive question. "Well, yes, we did talk for a while. You were gone for some time." He couldn't dodge her, though, and he knew it. Her stare made that quite plain. Maybe, just once, he could say something about that piece of his past he had never been able to settle with. With a sigh he put away the notebook. "He's always trying to agitate me about you. My parents were killed the same time as yours, during the Arnesian War. I had always hated who I was, hated that I was gifted, hated that I had so many people expecting so many great things from me, but then they died, and I felt like I barely knew them. I was only five when the house took me in, and I hardly ever got to go home. Neloth was in the Arnesian War. He saw it happen."

It wasn't often for her to be at a loss for words, but she was. This had been something she suspected may have happened to at least a few families on Vvardenfell, but she had never thought it had happened to his as well. Not Aryon, not someone like him. "Were you upset? When I came around?"

"I was at first," he admitted. "Something like that tends to stick with you, no matter how many times you tell yourself that it shouldn't matter. After a while, though, it really didn't matter. Just your presence there in the house, persisting and succeeding in a place that was designed to go against you, made me reconsider the way I thought about everything. If you could do that, if you could choose your own destiny even when fate was pulling you in so many directions, maybe I could too. I suppose you gave me a strange sort of hope, even in the times when it seemed like there wasn't any."

"I was just an opportunist." She shook her head, remembering how she had initially intended to use House Telvanni for simple personal gain. "I wonder if our families fought each other."

"It's possible. Neloth said the Argonians he fought looked just like you."

It was all the more confirmation she needed. Although she didn't even know the kind of people her parents had been, she still missed getting the chance. Not knowing who they were meant she couldn't even tell if she would have liked or hated them. It was only a void, a lack of feeling. She stepped closer, resting her brow against his shoulder as she sighed, not knowing what to say. Sometimes she felt so tired, weighed down by all of the things that had happened in the times they had lived through, knowing there would most likely be many more. "I'm exhausted, Aryon. I'm just exhausted."

"I know. I am too." Pulling her back enough to look her in the eye, he made sure she was focused on what he had to say. "I like to think that something good came out of it, though. If things hadn't happened the way they had, I wouldn't have known you, I wouldn't have known what else I was able to do. Someone else would have had to become the Nerevarine, or maybe nobody would have and the blight would have continued. Gothren would have been completely ineffective at holding all of those mages together during the Oblivion Crisis, not to mention organizing that evacuation of Sadrith Mora. He definitely wouldn't have been able to use the last of his influence to convince so many others to leave Vvardenfell before the eruption. I don't know if things happen for a reason or not, but they happen. I'm just determined not to let the bitterness of the past determine how I might make the future."

She chuckled, wondering as she always did where he managed to pull out just the right things to say. "I know. I just wish I could have at least known more about them. Maybe if I did, though, I wouldn't be the same person I am now. If they had raised me, maybe I would have eventually fought with them. I wouldn't be here now at all." The more she thought about it, the less appealing it seemed. Something about it just didn't feel right to her. "No, I like where I am now, I think."

Suddenly he laughed, and when she looked up at him curiously, he just shook his head. "I never told anyone."

Her usual grin was back, easing the tension. "Do you feel better now that you have?"

"I do." Breathing in the damp, stale air of Dwemer ruins had never felt so relieving before. "What was it like being a slave for Dunmer?" The question had left him without his consent, and a sharp pang went through him as he wondered if he might have overstepped his bounds. To his relief she only looked contemplative.

"Madesi explained to me something I didn't understand. He said it was not in the nature of Argonians to think about or talk about the past much. They just take up wherever they are and make the best of everything they find there. I don't know if I forget about things like that because I'm an Argonian or because I don't want to think about it."

"Forget I said anything, then."

"No, it's alright." Pulling away to finally leave these ruins, she motioned him to follow. "Let's find somewhere to camp. I'll tell you all of it."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: The first part here is a bit of Laje-tal's past, just in case there is any confusion.

From the very first day, she had been a nuisance to her Dunmer owners. At first it had been small things, tipping over barrels to crash into other things, putting out crucial lights, rearranging rocks to be tripped on. Working in a glass mine was hard, after all, and someone had to make things more interesting. Someone had to make their captors hate every moment they were here. Nearby a Khajiit was getting an undeserved lashing, accused of stealing – again. Laje-tal, small and hard to notice, slipped into the shadows of a nearby crevice, picking up a hefty rock. As soon as a pack guar came by she tossed the rock at its tail, startling it and causing it to dump its load all over the ground. The Dunmer overseers all scrambled to calm the beast down and the Khajiit escaped.

These small time annoyances just didn't accomplish enough for her. She was always tired, hungry, and overworked. Some of the others were worse off, victims of supposed crimes or wrongdoings that she tried hard not to let her own self get caught doing. Pretty soon she would run out of time. Those magic nullifying bracers would finally fit her, and she would be relegated to a mundane life. Today had to be the day to escape. The others couldn't be counted on. If this failed, they would get caught again and be even worse off than they were before. Luckily she had found just the thing she needed to cause a distraction large enough.

Nobody had paid much mind to a leftover spellbook that had been dropped behind a bench one day, but she had swiped it up like so much treasure, learning from it all she could just as she had secretly learned to read to begin with. It was a complicated spell, one she had worked and worked on for the past two years, absorbing the strange terms and instructions with only half understanding. Now was the time to put it to the test, ready or not. She crept deeper into the bowels of the caverns, down to a place few came into. There was a dangerous sort of gas, from what she heard, but if it was flammable, she had her escape ticket.

A guard passed by on his rounds, refined bonemold armor managing to gleam in the wan light. Again she was grateful for her dark scales, not the blue or gold of her fellow Argonians. She closed her glowing golden eyes, letting the guard's gaze slip right over her. Once he was well enough away she crept low, trying to sniff out that gas pocket she had just started to smell. It didn't have much of a scent, but she could somehow tell it was there. The trick now was to get close enough to launch a fireball, hide, and then make it behind the guards that would probably pile in. Not having any better plan, she picked a likely corner, unleashing the ball of flame deep into the heart of the gas.

The explosion that followed was louder and more violent than anything she could ever have thought of before. Her ears rang with the sheer noise and pressure of the blast, disorienting her long enough to lose focus. Thankfully everyone rushing through the tunnels weren't at all focused on her, and she managed to recover enough to move in the opposite direction. In the confusion she eluded most of the people that ran past, and at long last, light glowed in the distance. Escape! Just as she rounded the corner, though, she heard a rough voice call out.

"Wait. Take me with you."

There at the bend in the cave was a young Dunmer man, reddish hair filthy and the rest of him dangerously thin. Was he also somehow a slave? It never occurred to her that slavers would take in their own kind like this. Well, she could hardly turn him down. Dunmer or not, they were both in the same position. He might be able to help fight their way out of here. "Alright, come on then." Handing him a small scrap of metal so he might try to pick his way out of his bracers, they hurried along while secondary explosions rocked the cave all around them.

"You did this, didn't you?"

She just nodded at him, not wasting time on too many words. They had finally come to the outside world, the sun beaming down on their grateful faces. It had been far too long since she had had the sun on her scales. As welcoming as the open field was, they kept low to the ground, evading more incoming guards and workers rushing to the site. Once out of sight enough to think about where to go from here, she frowned down at his progress on the bracers. "Let me have a try at them."

"Might as well. If you can get them off, I'll be a lot more useful. A bit of sorcery might teach those fools a thing or two."

Now that was a very encouraging thing to hear indeed. "A sorceror? Good, maybe you can tell me more about this." Taking a moment to hand him the spell tome she had been looking at, she set about picking the lock. For some reason she and the other Argonians and Khajiit were naturally adept at this sort of thing. "If I can just make out that last passage, I can get us out of here for sure."

He frowned at the book once he saw what it was. "You really mean to summon a flame atronach? Here, in the mine?"

"No, not in the mine, in front of the main house. If I can do that, I'll force the guards to go defend it instead of the mine, and then we can get the others out too."

"You're crazy." He paged through the book, though, and glanced at the last passage in it, all written out in Daedric. "Hmph, well it's in Daedric script. It says to pull the soul force towards your plane, concentrating it on the spot in front of you. Will it to look away from you, and focus on the enemy." Looking down at the scrawny Argonian child, he had his doubts that she could even manage such a spell. "You're really sure about this? We could just set fire to the house."

"No, they would just put it out. I need something that lasts longer. If you want to run, then go." Finally the latch in his bracers came loose, freeing him from the draining spell. "Do what you want, I'm going."

The redhead sighed a rueful sigh. "You won't be able to do it alone. You might be crazy, but I'm not one to turn down a little payback. Let's go." His magic now restored, he summoned up a strong fire shield. They avoided the main road, sneaking near the house where the owners of the mine lived. It was naturally a fine house that was most likely filled with fine things, and with any luck they were fine flammable things. Just in sight of the door they stopped, and Laje-tal readied herself to cast the spell.

"I really hope this works." Spacing her feet apart just as the book instructed, she drew upon the unnaturally large amount of reserves of mana that had always seemed ready to constantly burst from her. She never knew why she had been so tuned into magic, but right now she was glad for it. Focused fire melded at her fingertips, the conjuration spell surging into her mind. Then she felt it, the soul force the book had mentioned. It would have taken her by surprise for sure if she hadn't had that last passage translated. Drawing it out, she set her focus on the space of dirt in front of her, willing the creature not to look at her. The Dunmer man would be protected by his natural resistance to fire if she failed, but she didn't want to be burned to a crisp either. Just when it seemed like she might lose the spell, a fire atronach materialized before her, its sights set right on the thatched roof. It worked!

"Come on," the man said quickly, pulling her away. "You managed to do it, but you better get away before it starts to wonder where it is. Let's wait near the mine and see what happens."

She didn't question his advice, simply grateful he was giving it to her, and they hid in a crevice close to the mine as they watched the destruction. The thatched roof was almost immediately afire, the flame atronach roaring its defiance mindlessly. Its roars attracted the attention of the guards again, and once the two were sure the last one had come out, they saw a couple slaves had already had the idea to leave, a few Argonians and Khajiit scattering in every direction. "Maybe we don't need to go back in there for them after all."

"Maybe not. Since you made one of the tunnels explode, it isn't safe in there anymore. I'll bet the guards were the only thing holding them back." Sure enough a few more ran out of the cavern as the ground both above and underneath shook from further explosions, verifying the suspicion. "We'd better run too before the guards catch on. If the others don't think to escape, then that's just too bad. They're on their own."

It was a cold logic, but a true one. She knew there wasn't much choice. "Alright. Where should we go?"

He laughed under his breath. "All of that planning and you didn't think of where you were going? I know a place, an Imperial town. They may not enforce the slavery ban all the way out here, but they sure won't have it in their towns and cities. I've got a few... friends out there who could help us."

Her brow furrowed as her suspicion grew. "You're a thief."

"No, no! I just, you know... get the right things for the right people, go through certain channels, and..." Feeling a bit nervous under her stare – which he shouldn't, she was just a child – he drew back from her scrutiny. No, she wasn't just a child, she was a child who just summoned a flame atronach like it was nothing. "Yes, sometimes I do a thing or two for them if they need it, but really it's all business! I just got caught, you know? That's why I was doing this stint in the mine, those guards caught me at it."

"Thought so." Craning her neck to see if the coast was clear she motioned him to come along. "Doesn't matter to me. If you've got a place we can stay until things die down, let's go there. Thieves Guild connections are probably better for an escaped slave anyway."

"I've got Mages Guild connections too if it comes to that." They both crouched in surprise as an explosion of flame shot off inside the house, the building bursting into pieces as guards shouted to each other. Nobody inside could have survived that. "Let's go."

It was a long, hard run filled with evading and fighting, their reserves low from the hard life in the mines. Wild animals were avoided at all costs, some diseased or acting strangely. Nights were taken in shifts, not risking a fire and keeping a wary, watchful vigilance throughout. One night, Laje-tal finally asked a question she hadn't thought to ask yet. "What's your name, Dunmer?"

He gave her a bit of a smirk, noticing that she had called him a Dunmer, not just a dark elf. "Edd Theman, everyone just calls me Eddie, or Fast Eddie, whatever suits. If you ever need a bit of something here or there, I might be able to get it."

* * *

In the middle of her story, Aryon interrupted. "You really met up with Eddie back then?"

At the inn back in Raven Rock, they had found a room to share for the night – much to the puzzlement of the owner. The fire at the hearth burned pleasantly, the entire room comfortable in its familiar architecture. Laje-tal sat at the head of the bed, and Aryon faced her at the end, resting from the journey. Leaning forward to rest her arm on her raised knee, she nodded. "It's strange, how these things come back to you later, but I did. I don't know if I owed him my life or he owed me his, but we were at an agreement of sorts. If either of us needed help again, we would keep each other in mind. Even after he became my mouth in the council, we traded favors now and then."

"No wonder you found a mouth so quickly. I wonder where he is now."

"I don't know. I warned him to evacuate Balmora just like so many others I knew there, I even advised him to go nowhere near the southern border, but whether he left or not I haven't heard. I don't think he would have ignored it, though. I'm sure he found some guild to fall in with, or maybe a caravan to guard."

"Probably. So then you went to the Imperial town he knew of? Is that where you found that family of nobles?"

"No, but that was the first step. This was a smaller town, not many people actually living there. It was a trading crossroad, a place built up around a mine and only running after the mine dried up by all the traders coming through on the way to somewhere else. Guilds had a small presence there for the most part, but you had better believe it was prime territory for the Thieves Guild. He had to lean on a few people he knew, but eventually we found a Twin Lamps agent willing to help me. They helped him too, of course, after all the trouble, but that was where we parted ways. I was taken by caravan to a much larger Imperial city, and that's where I was hired on as a servant."

"Then you were there until you joined with Barenziah's caravan. Ah, wait..." Thinking back on her interesting situation with that infamous play by that Hlaalu councilor, it became a bit more clear just when she had earned that infamy. "So that's when you knew Crassius Curio."

She sneered just at the mention of him. "Yes, that disgusting man. It was that situation that made me finally decide to leave. Everything was going very well in the caravan until some idiot Breton mage accidentally set fire to all of the queen's clothing and blamed me for it. Everyone knew that my fire magic was chaotic at times, it didn't take much to convince them that I did it, never mind the queen's opinion. From there, you pretty much know the rest. I was imprisoned for about half a year, then taken to Vvardenfell."

"And somehow you ended up here." He shot her a small smile. "What made you go to Sadrith Mora?"

"There were a few things. After going into Balmora, I decided to join with the Mages Guild to try to tame down some of my destruction magics. After asking around a little, I found out that there was an Argonian mage in Sadrith Mora. That seemed strange, so I asked more questions about the place. They told me that Sadrith Mora was a city of two faces, one Imperial, one Telvanni. Of course at that time I didn't know anything about the great houses, but the thought of a two-faced city seemed so interesting that I had to go see it for myself. When I crossed the Imperial bridge, I understood what they meant."

"Sadrith Mora was a unique place," he agreed. "I'm sure the guards there treated you quite... cordially."

She snorted at that. "Indeed. Once I joined House Telvanni they changed their tune quickly enough, but until then I was worse than the scum under their feet. Sure, I could have joined House Hlaalu, they'd take anyone, and Redoran wouldn't have turned down a mage that had potential, but the Telvanni! You should have seen those terribly confused mouths at the council house when I walked in. It's hard to find a Dunmer completely baffled, but I found a whole room full of them. The Mages Guild was all well and good, but there was quite a bit of competition and the rules were such that someone might frame me again if they had mind to. House Telvanni, though... well, if someone was singed after provoking me, then clearly they deserved it. If they then retaliated, I had every right to defend myself."

"So it was convenient."

"For a while. Then I heard about what you were up to, and that you needed someone to help you. That's when I knew I wanted a bit more than convenience."

"I remember that." Finally feeling warm after such a long time out in the cold, he tugged off his long set of mage robes, leaving a sleeveless undershirt and lighter pants. The light from the fire glowed across his skin as he sat back down, inspecting the long scarred blotching on his left arm. In time most of the marks of corprus had faded away into his normal skin tone, but it had been a large, long patch to begin with and it still was. His hand glowed white gold as he summoned up a little restoration magic, doing what he could to at least ease the blistery dryness of the damaged skin.

Every time she saw it she felt somewhat responsible, though she knew she was being silly. The initial onset of corprus had come with almost no symptoms at all, and it was only long after she had infected Aryon that she even realized there was something wrong. She couldn't have possibly done any more than she did, but it still gave her a small pang of guilt. Taking a small ceramic jar from her pack, she took out a dab of the gel from it. "Here, try some of this. It doesn't get rid of the scars, but it's been relieving the itch on mine." He offered over his arm and she set about rubbing the salve deep into the pocked scars. The sigh of relief was all the confirmation she needed.

"It's always so abominably itchy. What's in that mixture?"

"Blue mountain flowers, some dragon's tongue, a bit of fire salts. While it boiled I added powdered hawk feathers and mudcrab chitin. I think the hawk feathers were what I was missing before. It just didn't seem quite as potent without them."

"Whatever makes that damned itch go away, I'll try it." The salve was working, thankfully, and he relaxed as the mixture set in. For a moment he just waited while she worked, thinking over the long and interesting story she had just told. There was a great deal he wanted to say, but he didn't find himself saying any of it. He wanted to thank her for entrusting the whole story with him, for listening to his in return, but the words didn't come. Just as she was about to finish, he found himself stopping her where she was, his other hand on top of hers on his arm. She looked up sharply, a brief flicker of understanding flashing in her golden, slitted eyes. Aryon wasn't the type to pass up an invitation, and he met her halfway in a burning kiss. After all, sleep was a long way off from now.

* * *

The final word of the shout to confront Miraak with had come at a greater price than first expected. It was inevitable that the secrets of the Skaal would have to be divulged, but the manner in which it had happened hadn't been expected at all. Mora had extracted the knowledge directly from Storn's thoughts, causing his death in the process. That certainly hadn't been part of the bargain, but they hadn't specified such a thing either. Such was the way of dealing with Daedra.

Amid the mourning, however, there was a small bit of hope now that Laje-tal acquired the final word of the shout. At least now there would be the chance at freeing everyone from Miraak's control. It was uncertain how long she would have to spend inside the book world this time, but no doubt it would be much longer than any of the times before. Not wanting to ask any more favors of the already strained Skaal they returned to Raven Rock, taking refuge inside an abandoned house. They couldn't risk an extended period in the wilds.

From time to time another Dunmer woman came in and out of the lower level but she never seemed to do much more than use it to sleep while they took to the upper floor. They didn't exactly want to advertise that they had these potentially dangerous, valuable books. Aryon had put together enough supplies to last the night, and as they both settled on the ground near the wall, he watched with anticipation. "Are you ready?"

"If I'm not now, I don't know when I would be," she said plainly. "I'll take my time, though."

"Right. No sense rushing it and making mistakes. I'll wait for you." Once she entered Apocrypha he finished off the last of a cooked ash yam, writing more and more in his increasingly small travel journal. Too much more adventuring and he would have to pick up another, not that he minded. Absently he wondered what sort of book all of this might make, but then he wasn't sure when he might even have time to compile it. This thought suddenly reminded him of something.

Taking out a sketch he had made near Riften, he admired the interesting view of the mountain range separating Skyrim from Morrowind. The whole area had caught his eye in passing, mainly because of a very interesting rift in the ground they had found. Deep in the many layers of soil, they had found a thin, gray, pasty layer. It was unlike anything they had ever found in Skyrim, but it was exactly like what they had known on Vvardenfell. At a layer this deep, it had to have been from the first eruption during the first era, Sun's Death. Even all the way out there, the eruption had deposited ash. That had been the same time the Dwemer disappeared and the Dunmer were created as a unique race.

Downstairs a Redoran guard came in, clearly looking for someone. Aryon unconsciously drew further back towards the wall, ready to cast a temporary invisibility spell over both of them if necessary. Briefly he wondered when he had become so paranoid. Luckily it had been the other tenant of the abandoned house he had been looking for and the woman left with him, leaving Aryon to sigh with relief. Somehow he didn't think that a Redoran guard would much like two Telvanni mages tampering with Daedric artifacts in their town. This was going to be quite the wait.

It was a good few hours later that Laje-tal finally returned to herself, but it was her grin of satisfaction that reassured him the most. She stretched out her stiff limbs, answering before he could ask. "In the end, Mora turned on him. I was about to strike him down, but he disappeared into a dark pool. He was grabbed up and finished off, then Mora sent me back. It's over now. Everyone should be free."

"Good, because we had better get out of here. There's a Redoran guard that comes in now and then, and I don't think he will be ignorant of the upper floor much longer." Once she stuffed the black book away in her pack they left the house quietly, avoiding as many people as they could. It wasn't meant to be, though, and a Redoran guard slowed as they passed, peering at their Telvanni ropes with palpable suspicion.

"Stop right there, you two! This is House Redoran territory, you're not allowed to be here. What is your business in Raven Rock? Are you agents of Neloth?"

Laje-tal couldn't help but laugh. Just the idea of being an agent of Neloth was hilarious. "Us? No, never!" The guard seemed startled by her being the one to speak, his suspicion growing. Luckily she could think on her feet. "We have come from Skyrim to meet with Councilor Morvayn regarding the current state of affairs in Raven Rock and what might be done to help the town. We heard that the mine has been shut down and thought other trade might be established here."

If anything he only affected even more disbelief, but then he was of House Redoran. They were simply like that. "I'll let Councilor Morvayn be the judge of that. If you really are here on business, he should be expecting you."

She didn't miss Aryon's amused glance as they were shepherded inside the governor's house. No doubt he was wondering how she was going to handle this one, but she had a good, if lucrative, notion how. After all, Mistress Brara had known her. Once inside, though, it wasn't Brara at all, it was Lleril Morvayn. Well.

"And just who are you?" the Dunmer asked, brows furrowing with confusion. Telvanni? In his house?

The guard shoved them a little further forward, keeping a close eye on them. "Envoys from Skyrim," he said with dripping sarcasm. "Said something about trading goods with Raven Rock. I wonder if you were expecting them."

Before Lleril could object, Laje-tal stepped closer, supposing a full introduction was the best and only way to save the situation. "I don't believe we have met, in all honesty, but I did know Brara Morvayn back during my time on Vvardenfell. She was one of the councilors who supported my claim as Hortator. You, though, probably know me best as the Nerevarine." Naturally they laughed. It was a tall claim, after all. It was just the sort of distraction she had needed, but now it was time to stop playing around. Showing the moon and star ring to each of them, she felt just a little frustrated that there might be more of this nonsense to come if she intended to be known. "I'm sure there have been many stories surrounding the Nerevarine, enough for the greater public to forget who exactly it was, but surely this is proof enough."

Behind her, the guard was unimpressed. "A fake, most likely. I knew you were both up to something."

Just then an older Dunmer man came in, bringing a whole pile of goods into the manor. Upon seeing Aryon, though, he almost dropped his bundle in his excitement. "Why Master Aryon, you're still alive! And Laje-tal! I never thought I would see either of you again after you left Solstheim."

Lleril frowned, recognizing the man as the only original settler left alive. "You know these two, Unel?"

He only chuckled at that, setting down his burden. "How could I not? Without them there would be no Raven Rock! Funded the whole mission after the East Empire Company cut us off."

"Is that so?" Seeming a bit less skeptical, he looked at his visitors more closely, remembering vaguely Brara mentioning something about an Argonian and a Telvanni wizard. Yes, now that he thought of it, she had been forewarned about the Vvardenfell eruption by the Arch-Magister of house Telvanni, who was curiously enough mentioned being an Argonian and the Nerevarine, though nobody ever believed it. Now it made sense. An Argonian wouldn't have been able to live this long, but maybe the Nerevarine could. There was one way to be sure. "It was said that you got corprus during your quest, is that right?"

Somewhat surprised at his extent of knowledge, she was caught a bit off guard, but the Redoran did often know some rather strange things for no apparent reason. Pulling back her collar enough to show the long, unmistakable streak of corprus damage on the back of her neck, she remembered how the prophecy had gone. "The curse of flesh before him flies, and blight nor age may harm him. I suppose you know what that means. Hm, now that I think of it, Redoran had a presence in Ghostgate, they probably saw several people get the disease. Or maybe you read Divayth Fyr's symposium on it?"

"I didn't," he admitted, "but there were several in the house who were interested in it after dealing with the ash creatures for such a long time. The cure did seem to work on a few who were treated soon after contracting the disease, but it had the side effect of leaving them immortal. We probably wouldn't have even realized that if two of those patients hadn't been humans. So you really are the Nerevarine."

She nodded. "That, and Arch-Magister of House Telvanni, and now it seems I'm the Dragonborn as well. I honestly don't know what I have done to attract so much prophecy, but we really would like to help Raven Rock in any way we can. If the mines are dried out, maybe you would be able to trade with Skyrim."

"I don't know what else we could trade except for our food and drink. There's nothing else but that and the mine, and barely enough of either. Ask the miners if you want, at least a few of them swear there has to be more ebony still deep down further in the mine, but I don't know about that. If you find something out, I'll be glad to hear it."

"We'll do what we can." Shaking out her hands, feeling magic unwillingly building up in her veins, she knew she had to get out of here before something exploded. Somehow this only happened at the times she didn't want or need it to. Aryon saw this and stepped closer, distracting the others.

"Regardless of what Neloth might say, you will have at least this side of House Telvanni's support. We may have been opposed before, but with Vvardenfell gone and the mainland weakened, we'll need to work together. Let's go take a look at that mine." Fortunately they escaped the manor without any major disaster, but as soon as they were outside, Laje-tal rushed to the gate leading out of Raven Rock, trying to keep it all down.

"Do you have any seeds?" She turned to him with a slight bit of nervousness, focusing on just getting out of that gate. "Something that needs a lot of energy?"

"Just a few samples of trama root. Will that be enough?"

"I hope so." The guards at the gate looked at them strangely but seemed to just be glad that they were leaving, and the moment they were behind a large escarpment, she took the small roots he handed her. One of them she didn't even bother to put into the ground, cupping it with both hands and feeding it as much energy as she could release at once. The small root swelled and expanded, growing at a rate that would have taken it a whole year to grow on its own. As it grew more and more, the roots reached down to the ground where she finally let it go, watching as it dug deep into the soil.

Aryon watched from a safe distance, wondering as he often did how magic seemed to build up in her until it just about burst. Even after all of this time and training it was still a liability, and after going the entire day without doing any sort of magic in the real world, he figured it was to be expected that she would have plenty to burn off. The few trama roots were now growing unnaturally large, and he frowned as he watched the progress. "Not too much more, we don't want them to look suspicious."

With a jerk of her hands she cut off the magic, still feeling like she had barely done anything at all. "I'll need something else, then."

He sighed, not knowing how much more could be done out here that wouldn't attract too much attention. Lightning and fire spells were too dangerous in her current state, and conjuration was entirely out of the question. Frost magic may well affect a major portion of the island. "Let's get closer to Tel Mithryn, at least out there we can blame Neloth for it."

Now that was something she very much liked the idea of. "I'll make him an entire trama root statue shaped like a spriggan. I'm sure he will love it. He always loved my sculptures."

* * *

On the way to Tel Mithryn, the day had taken an interesting turn. An abandoned farmhouse along the road had been all but overtaken by ash spawn, a lone Redoran guard fighting them off. Laje-tal of course jumped on the chance to use as much magic as she cared to on the creatures, burning, freezing or shocking in whatever order came about. The guard turned out to be Captain Veleth, someone they had seen in town a couple times. He accepted their help a bit more readily than the other Redorans might have, and even directed them to something very intriguing – the ash creatures being sent by no other than Falx Carius.

Naturally the Imperial was quite dead and had been for quite a while. It smelled of vampirism or more likely necromancy. Normally necromancy done under the correct circumstances was more or less allowed, but this was clearly not done in such a way. "I feel bad for him," Laje-tal said as they walked along the shore towards the fort. "He was an Imperial, but he did try hard to make the progress on this island work out, and he held his own in Hircine's maze. Ah, all of that, only to get killed by debris. No, I'd rather find out who did this and put him back in his grave where he belongs."

The reality, as usual, was much better than the fiction, though, and as they ventured deeper and deeper into the ruined fort, it was almost like being in the Red Mountain wastes again with all of the ash creatures they found. Behind a locked door they found their target, armed and ready as always. It seemed he had some of a mind left, hesitating briefly when they entered. That small moment of hesitation was all that was needed to gain the advantage, but of course with Laje-tal in the state she was in, he probably couldn't have endured much more than he did. At least now things were set right.

Aryon handed over a journal he had found in the wreckage, pointing to a few key passages. "Ildari Sarothil. A Dunmer name for sure. Seems like we are not the only ones who have had trouble with Neloth."

She grabbed it with interest, reading and looking more grim as the record went on. This person was dealing with untested magic. "Heart stones. That refers to those strange ore samples that fell as pyroclastic deposits when the mountain erupted. I don't like this, and I don't like how this involves Neloth. He's already had his assistant summoning ash spawn, he shouldn't hear about this." Reading through the volume once more, committing it to memory, she then tossed it onto the ground, incinerating it with a blast of fire to mix in with all the rest of the ash. Then, of course, was the problem of what to do about the General.

"I'm sure his body must have a heart stone," Aryon surmised aloud, knowing what she was thinking. "Let's take it out and see what can be done with it. If we can learn about it faster than Neloth, we might be able to have an edge on him."

"I don't like this." Taking out a short dagger, she set about the grisly task of cutting out the heart stone. As much as she hated mutilating the body of someone she had once known, it was necessary. Prying out the small hard stone, glowing a wan red in the low light, it bore a small resemblance to something they had seen many times in the Reach. "Ah, I have an idea. Could you dig into my pack and find a briar heart? We might be able to stage this to look like Forsworn activity."

"Good idea. Are there hagraven feathers in there too?"

"Probably." The blood from the corpse was disgustingly sticky, the tacky substance making her fingers stick together. It had been bad enough to feel the aged, rubbery flesh bend more than tear under her dagger, but she tolerated it while Aryon found the spare ingredients. With a couple leather strips and a bit of knowhow on how Forsworn briarhearts were made, it was simple enough to make it look like the real thing. A few bloodied hagraven feathers, a couple common soulgems and just the right sort of bloody streaks hagravens might make and it may as well have been the top of a redoubt.

"Not bad. I sure would be fooled by that, and we spent a good amount of time in the Reach. Now what?"

"Now we make it look like hagravens came through here. Trace back the same way we came, I'll smooth the ash and do the rest." Like many Argonians, she had feet with three main toes and a higher residual claw in back, and though they were bigger than most hagravens had, all of the Argonians on Skyrim were the types with the more humanoid five toes. Not many would expect a Morrowind or Gideon Argonian to come all the way out here. After leaving several tracks in the most likely areas they left the fort, keeping to the areas that looked the grassiest or most windswept to hide their tracks in leaving. Only when they finally reached the sea did they pause to clean up.

"This water is vile." Aryon had gone to wash his hands in the water but quickly thought better of it. Just looking at it was enough to make one sick.

"Here." Drawing on frost magic, she created an ice crystal between her hands, holding it out to him. "It's alright, I can keep it steady now."

"I sure hope so." Casting a small fire spell with his own hands, he set about melting the crystal into water. It required concentration on both their parts, the balance needing to be just right to make it work. Too much ice and the water was cold or frozen, too much fire and it was too hot or boiled off. The fire had to be suspended in just such a way that he could catch the water with his hands but not put out the fire. It wasn't the best solution, but eventually they had cleaned up enough to manage for the meantime. "Hm, you know, the day after tomorrow is Talen's wedding."

"Has it been that long?" Flicking off the last that remained of the blood and dirt on her hands, she looked at him curiously. "Think we could make it to Riften by then?"

"If we hurry. I don't think there's much more we can do on Solstheim for the time being. We did agree to look at the mine, but we didn't say when it might get done. Neloth should be led astray long enough with this matter of the General and the heart stones. There is still the problem of dragons returning to life." He grinned at her playfully. "Well what do you think, oh great Dragonborn?"

"I think you've been inhaling too much ash."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I have no idea what happened to make me close this plothole, I swear these characters have been writing themselves.

"That was all over a bit quicker than I would have thought," Aryon commented next to her, watching as the wedding ceremony ended. Other friends of Talen and Keerava had come to watch as well, but they had taken the benches in the front, not in the back where he was currently sitting. Now that the ceremony was more or less over, everyone broke up into small groups, chatting and congratulating the new couple. It wasn't much of a surprise to see that Brand-Shei was there, and of course Madesi made it too. Others were a bit more unfamiliar.

"Well, we'd better go say something," Laje-tal said, getting up. Finally the pair made it towards the back, and Talen greeted them enthusiastically.

"Ah, I'm glad you could both make it! After all, without those amethysts I don't know how we would have managed it."

She simply grinned. "As determined as you were, I'm sure you would have found a way. I'm just glad none of those dragons thought it might be interesting to see a wedding as well."

Keerava had been chatting with a particularly cranky Nord, but now she turned her attention to both of them. "Hah, watching the Dragonborn kill a dragon or two might have been almost as good as watching the marsh-lights. Let them come if they must, I've done about all I've wanted to do for this life."

She snorted at that. "What, no grand adventures, no egg at the hearth? This is really all there is?"

"Until the Black-Briars keep their noses in their own business long enough to slip in a shipment of hist sap, yes. Besides, it's enough of an adventure to chase out the Thieves Guild every night."

Something about what she said confused her. "What would the Black-Briars want with hist sap?"

"Oh they don't know what to do with it, they just don't want it in the city! I don't know if the Black-Briars know how much we need it or not but they know we want it, and that's enough to try to keep us from having it. What a mess."

Though she wasn't quite sure what all of this meant, she filed it away to think on later. There was something more important to take care of while they were in Riften. "Well, I will keep my eyes open. If I ever find some, I'll bring it to you. "

"If you do, don't let anyone else know you have it." Nodding to Talen, they were both clearly more than ready to get out of the place. "I suppose if the bar is still standing we had better go make sure nobody starts thinking the drinks are free."

Slowly everyone cleared out but as they exited, Aryon caught Brand-Shei's attention. Looking a bit curious, he followed them to the small courtyard outside. It was already midday, a bit too long to abandon his stall for his liking, but hopefully it would only be for a moment. "What is it?"

Not quite sure where to begin, Aryon started simply. "I had meant to ask you if anyone strange has approached you. I have been worried that Neloth, the Telvanni Master in Solstheim, might have contacted you in some way. He might not know yet that you are a survivor of the house, but if he does, he'll contact you soon. Who knows, maybe he won't. He won't like that you were raised by Argonians, that much is certain. He has had a very... strained relationship with them."

Next to him, Laje-tal grinned. "Specifically me, of course. An Argonian Arch-Magister has always rubbed him the wrong way. That, and of course the Accession War didn't help matters. He might still contact you, though. If he caught wind that we were even in the least bit in contact with you, he might even see fit to kidnap or kill you. I know he wouldn't hesitate to do that if it benefited him."

Naturally Brand-Shei was very concerned. He had never really attracted the attention of anyone, except maybe the Thieves Guild, and of course everyone had gotten that sort of attention. This, however, sounded much more threatening. The Thieves Guild was harsh in their dealings, but they never caused any actual harm. "Do you really think I'd have anything to fear from him? I'm just a merchant, not even that much of a mage really. I mean I never tried much, except maybe some destruction, but all I've ever done is sell."

Aryon shook his head, frowning. "If you're born of House Telvanni, it's in your blood, even if you don't use it. Even the lowest retainers were able to use some sort of magic well. If Neloth took you, believe me when I say that he would make it come out, one way or the other. He should be distracted for a while with matters on Solstheim, but it's probably for the best if you leave Riften."

"Leave Riften?" He gestured around the city aimlessly. "Leave my shop? My whole life? Why? All because some Telvanni wizard might be interested in me?" Then he frowned at Laje-tal. "Can't you make him stop?"

She just threw her hands up in defeat. "If it were House Hlaalu or Redoran, it would be that easy. As Arch-Magister I would have the power to do almost anything, but in House Telvanni, things are different. I have my position because I challenged the former Arch-Magister and won. If I were to go to Neloth and demand he have nothing to do with you, he would just laugh. A real demand would mean a fight."

"He doesn't even know about me, though."

"Not yet, but he will. He always did know too much about things he wasn't supposed to. It might be that someday I'll have to challenge him for one reason or another, but now that dragons are attacking all over Skyrim, it's too risky to have him after our hides as well. Stay in Riften if you want, but I can at least promise you that life on the run is better than life as Neloth's apprentice."

It made sense, but of course Brand-Shei didn't like any of it. He had a choice, but did he really? "So what, then? Leave Riften and go where? I barely make enough money to get by, I can't make it out there on my own. How would I even get out without letting everyone know?"

"You can leave that part to us. As for where to go from here, there are a few things we had thought of. The best option would be for you to go to Winterhold and stay with the mages there. They will feed you and take care of you if you are a student."

Aryon reluctantly agreed. "Relations between House Telvanni and the Mages Guild used to be much worse, but the college here seems to not mind what sort of background you come from as long as you keep your experiments legal. I know as well as you do how hard it is to pack up and move on to another place, another life, but it's the only way to keep you away from Neloth. Even someone as accomplished as he is would have to think twice before attempting to go inside the college of mages without an invitation. I've seen what he does to his students, and to his... experiments. He treats death like an inconvenience, and people like tools."

There really wasn't a choice after all. It was this, death, or several unknown things happening to him at the whim of Neloth. It almost felt unreal. "This can't be happening..." On further thought, this had really been inevitable all along. That he had gone this long without someone coming after him for his past was something of a miracle. "You really think this is the only way?"

"Probably," Laje-tal mused. "It's that or fall in with the Legion or beg sanctuary with the Greybeards. At least at the college you might learn something more about yourself. I heard there was another Dunmer of House Telvanni studying there and if that's true, who knows. You might find the place to your liking. We will be glad to take you there, and make sure you're safe." Seeing his hesitation, she sighed. "I know. I don't want this to have to happen either but it has to be done now if at all, while Neloth is busy trying to figure out how Forsworn made it all the way out to Solstheim."

"No, it's alright. You didn't have to tell me any of this, you could have just left me to whatever might have happened. The only other place that wizard wouldn't look for me is in the Thieves Guild, and I'm not sinking that low. Are we leaving now?"

"It's for the best. Take what you must, leave what you can. If anyone asks, you're going to the border to meet with the traders who bring in your goods from Morrowind. You'll leave the city and head that way, but then we will meet up with you and head back north. As far as anyone else might be concerned, you met with your death as many merchants do when they leave the city gates."

"You really thought this through." Steeling himself against probably having to leave behind several things in favor of not looking suspicious, he sighed, knowing that if nothing else he could lock much of it up in his strongbox. "Alright. Give me an hour to get out of the city. I'll meet you on the road."

Ever since leaving Solstheim, the implications of what Neloth might do even if only to spite his unfavored Arch-Magister had come bearing down on them more and more. Brand-Shei had told others about his past, not just them, in hopes of getting as much information as he could. The problem with that was the more people that knew, the more likely someone might leak this information to Neloth, not knowing how potentially harmful it would be. Once out of the city and well out of earshot of the crooked guards, Aryon aired something else that was bothering him. "I don't think everyone will believe that he died on the road, but there's not much else we can do."

"Well, once you see what I have planned, you'll see how I'll wipe out our tracks."

He quirked an eyebrow at her, wondering what she was plotting. "What, you know of a secret passage or something?"

"Not quite, but I know you'll like my solution." Though he tried to prod her a bit more for answers, she kept quiet, just leading him to about halfway towards the border. A copse of birches lay nearby, a perfect place to duck down and wait out the rest of the time. Far in the distance a dragon roared, but it was too far away to spot them just yet. Time passed quietly on the south road until they saw Brand-Shei walking down it, looking around to try and spot them.

Aryon came out of hiding just long enough to flag down the other Dunmer, both of them edging back to the copse. Finally Aryon couldn't take the suspense anymore. "If you have a plan, let's do this. I really want to see how you intend to get us out of here without being spotted."

She just gave them a knowing grin, wondering what they would both think. "How are you two at riding?"

"Riding? Hm, yes, horses might be the best way, they leave only one sort of track."

Brand-Shei looked a bit doubtful. "I haven't had much in the way of riding myself. Can't afford a horse, you know."

Of course, this only made her grin more. "Oh, we're not riding horses." Coming out of the clearing, she spotted the dragon, just a spot in the sky. Well, that was going to change. Letting out a powerful force shout, the dragon was instantly alerted to her presence, roaring defiance and winging down to meet her in combat. Naturally Brand-Shei looked at her like she was out of her mind and Aryon seemed worried, but things were about to get more interesting. By the time she was able to shout again, the dragon was just close enough for a little something she had learned on Solstheim. "Gol hah dov!" The shout struck a direct hit, the dragon a bit baffled as it winged down to land.

"Hail, thuri! I am at your service!" It was a big dragon, bigger than she had at first thought, but it had come down all the same, bending his neck so she might get on.

Laje-tal waved to the others, urging them forward. "Hurry, he won't have much patience to wait up! Get on!" She leaped up just behind the dragon's head, willing it to be still while the other two got on behind her. Aryon gripped her waist just a bit too tight, his voice nervous but excited.

"I do hope you know what you're doing, love."

Behind him Brand-Shei muttered something to the effect of "All going to die" but at least he didn't jump off. Commanding the dragon wasn't a very precise method, most of what she could do consisted of giving some rather vague commands and hope they were followed. This dragon seemed to be an elder, one who might take something a little more precise. "To Winterhold, near the mountains!"

The dragon grumbled in understanding, his voice booming under their legs. "Yes, thuri. Zu'u fent aam." All at once he shot off from the ground, powerful limbs and wings taking them high into the mountains in seconds. It was still a strange feeling to be flying high above the ground on a dragon, the past time having been on the way to find Miraak. During that time it had been easy to ignore the lurching gut, the ground suddenly getting very far away, all in the thrill of the chase. Right now it was all she could do to keep a calm face and pretend she was levitating.

Aryon seemed to be doing the best of all of them, pulling back his grip enough to look around and see the sights below. He pointed out a couple Dwemer ruins, an orc stronghold, and a few other notable places they had been to before. His observations drew her out of her firm concentration, loosening just a little to see what he was pointing at. In the distance they could see High Hrothgar, several interesting waterfalls, and even further ahead the road leading to Windhelm. Even Brand-Shei grew brave enough to look at a few things, though it was always for just a second before he went back to paying very close attention to Aryon's back.

Flying was by far better than walking all of this way, only taking a couple hours to reach Winterhold instead of who knew how long by other means. Getting too near the town was out of the question, so as soon as they found a desolate ice field Laje-tal instructed the dragon to land. For a moment they circled the area, landing space a bit hard to find for such a large dragon, but he eventually found a good flat bit of snow and ice and landed, shaking all of them on their seats. Each very gratefully descended to the nice, wonderful ground, a ground that didn't move beneath them, a glorious ground that didn't circle or weave. Laje-tal bid the dragon be on his way, using the scrap or two of dragon language she had learned along her journey. He flew off into the distance, great wings taking him far in only a matter of moments.

Brand-Shei dropped to his knees on the ground, looking very relieved. "By the Hist I've never been so scared in all my life!"

She and Aryon traded a look at his outburst, and she tugged a spare set of Telvanni robes out of her pack, handing it to him. "You might not want to say that at the college. A Dunmer raised by Argonians is unheard of, and if someone is looking for you, they will know what to look for. Here, put these on. For now you'll have to be Brandyn of House Telvanni."

Nearby Aryon dug into his own pack, taking out two sets of very different Telvanni garb. "I think you'll appreciate these, I'm afraid you're not the only one who thought to take a bit of something from Neloth." He shook out one of them and it was pretty plain just what the blue robes were for.

"Council robes! He really had those! Why that narcissistic little cliff-racer! He had council robes right there at the ready, just waiting to rebuild the house out of people he chose! Well, we shall see who is the councilor around here. Hand one over."

He did hand her one but he also gave her a somewhat disconcerted look. "It might be best if you stay here while I take him up to the college."

"What? Why?"

"You're still an Argonian, my dear. If we were seen together, everyone would know who we were."

Oh. Why, of all things, hadn't that occurred to her? "I forgot about that. Well, go on then." Stashing away the council robe for now in favor of more nondescript clothing, she waved them away. "I'll meet up with you when you leave town."

Aryon pulled up his hood and scarf, just leaving his red eyes showing as Brand-Shei did the same. They could easily pass for just another councilor and his protege seeking passage into the college. Leaving Laje-tal to make whatever sort of camp she could out here, they headed towards town, Aryon passing along as much knowledge as he could. "There are some things you should know about how to be like a Telvanni. They will expect you to act like one at first, or at least have moments where you forget yourself and do something typical to one. Telvanni are accustomed to general lawlessness amongst each other. If we want something, we take it. If someone is in our way, we kill them."

Next to him Brand-Shei seemed a bit unsure. "I don't know if I could do that."

"You won't, just act like you would. I know my wife and I don't come off as quite the same as a rest and in all honesty we aren't, but we've shed our fair share of blood to get where we are. I don't mind stealing from someone like Neloth, but I wouldn't take from a farmer. Other Telvanni wouldn't have such morals. You'll have to mind yourself in the college, of course, but at least act like all of this is new to you." Frowning, he considered something else. "You'll also have to be a bit different towards Argonians and Khajiit. Mainlander Telvanni don't care for them, and most Dunmer in general don't have much love for them either. If anyone might mention Laje-tal and myself in the same sentence, we are a grave disgrace. I am only half a man to you."

He looked at the other curiously. "Is it really that bad?"

"Worse, really, but yes. We had to hide it all of our time in Morrowind, even the part about her being Arch-Magister, to avoid the assassins and other such things that would have been sent against us. For now, avoid answering too many questions and just do whatever might be assigned to you. Don't get in over your head and you'll be alright." The gates of the college were now in sight, tall stone structures and of course the imposing college itself jutting up from the very rock. "When we get in there I might have to be a bit harsh towards you, but this is how it needs to be. Just know I don't mean anything if I have to hit you." Giving a reassuring nod he led the way to the bridge, waiting for the Altmer woman standing there to notice them. She already had, of course, but she didn't want them to know. Sometimes Altmer were much like cats in that way.

"Hold right there," she said with a rather imperious tone. "I'm assuming you want to gain access into the college?" Taking in their clothing her eyes narrowed just a little. "Well, more Telvanni. You will still have to perform a spell to get inside. I'm sure you can manage that much."

Aryon came closer, dragging Brand-Shei up the stairs. "Bah, the boy hardly knows a thing, for all I've spent years teaching him! Too distracted, won't listen to a thing! Needs discipline, he does. Think you and your mages can do that?"

"Maybe. Can he do some magic?"

This wasn't good. Hopefully Brand-Shei was enough of a mage to at least get by. "Alright, show her then."

Next to him the other Dunmer looked up at him with an affronted look; it could have been a real one, too. "Aye, Master." Taking up quite nicely on the bedraggled student look, he summoned up a bit of fire, creating several fireballs and launching them into the air. The Altmer seemed satisfied, but he wanted to add a bit to his supposed character. "Ah, I can make shock runes too, but the master says I'm not to use them anymore."

As hoped the Altmer just rolled her eyes, waving them both through. "Yes, yes, we'll show you the proper way to use them. Go ahead on the bridge and meet up with everyone inside. Don't fall."

It was sound advice seeing as the bridge was well above the ground, but after being even worse off atop a dragon, it didn't feel quite as bad. Icicles clung to the outer edges of the bridge, snow drifting into little piles here and there, and a somewhat disturbing amount of ice was right there where the wall had broken a bit. Luckily they made it into the heart of the college unscathed, making a few introductions, learning about the upcoming class and avoiding the somewhat acerbic Thalmor agent they hadn't expected to find here. Well this just made things a bit more interesting.

Few people were around in the middle of the day, most doing their experiments around the grounds, so it wasn't too hard to find a bit of privacy in the dormitory. All of the rooms were more or less the same, and Aryon took him over to a wash basin, pulling out a small knife. "There's one more thing. We'll have to cut your hair."

Brand-Shei recoiled, not liking the look of the very sharp knife. "What? How much?"

"All of it, if you'll let me." The look he received was a bit horrified but there was a method to his madness. "Come on, it's a usual practice for a new initiate to shave his head, at least at first. If you want to grow it out later you can."

"This is insane."

"It's either I scalp you or Neloth does. As long as you'll hold still I won't hurt you. The more you look like a traditional Telvanni, the less suspicious you'll look. I know the Thalmor we saw would notice something like that." Looking around to make sure nobody was nearby, he urged the other to lean over. "Let's get this done before anyone comes in."

"Just get it over with, then!" Bracing against the basin he closed his eyes, trying as hard as he could to stay still while that very sharp blade made disturbingly quick progress relieving him of his hair. This whole thing was so bizarre he wondered for a moment if he was dreaming. For a moment he wanted to be back in Black Marsh with the flesh eating flies, leviathans and swamp monsters. It was only for a moment. Aryon quickly brought him back to reality halfway through his progress.

"Be sure not to talk to that Thalmor agent if you can help it, he's up to something I'm sure. He will probably ask you far too many questions, try to answer as few as possible. We will do whatever we can to keep Neloth occupied, but it will be hard with the dragons attacking like they have been. Riding dragons!" He let out a slight chuckle, not pausing in his shaving and leaving Brand-Shei all the more nervous. "Don't move. Well, maybe our Dragonborn can keep calling them down to her command, who knows. All I can promise is that we'll try whatever possible to keep his attention on us, not you. He might try and recruit someone like you the first few times, but after that he would instead send assassins to kill you. If he can't have you, he'll likely make sure no one else can either. Alright, you're done."

The job was done with such a fine skill that he couldn't help but wonder just what else the man had practice with. There was hardly a nick to be found and hardly a hair, either. He really didn't want to see his reflection right now, just running his hand over the smooth surface of his scalp was enough. "You'd make a fine butcher someday, you know."

Aryon just laughed, taking the scrap of cloth he had cut the hairs into towards the blue fire at the center of the dormitory, dropping it in and letting it burn into nothing. Every last piece of evidence had to be covered up. "I know. Use your own dagger in the future, keep it sharp." Footsteps sounded overhead as someone came down from the balcony, both of them keeping quiet until it sounded like the person had gone back out. "Probably won't be much longer until I'll have to let you be on your own. If anyone asks you about your parents, you're an orphan and you were raised by your mentor. If they ask about your mentor, you were told not to say. I'd give you a couple books, but we can't leave those around for someone to find them and wonder. Just don't say anything about the Hist, we believe in Azura and our ancestors."

"This is a lot to remember." Sitting down on the bed with a huff, he was still trying to absorb everything. "What if I mess up? What if they don't believe me?"

"Just make use of their library, read up on whatever you can. They will expect a traditional Telvanni to be more interested in their own pursuits, they shouldn't get too involved if you mostly keep to yourself. The Thalmor agent is the only one you need to worry about." A sudden sound came just at the edge of his hearing, his head whipping about, putting his hood and scarf in order just in time for a Dunmer woman to come in. Shit. He slipped back into his harsh teacher guise, exiting the room and gesturing outside wildly. "Well come on, you layabout! You can't learn on your bed, now can you? They aren't going to wait around all day to start class, you know!"

Brand-Shei gave him a discreet amused look, getting up and almost running right into the woman that came right past them. He was used to people doing much the same to him in Riften and not saying anything about it, but maybe he should be a little more polite. "Excuse me."

Unsurprisingly Aryon dragged him to the side, away from the very confused woman. "Clumsy, too! I swear, if you weren't born in House Telvanni I'd think you were of the Hlaalu! Get on to your class, no distractions!" They made it out into the courtyard but it had been a close call. "I'll come with you for this first one. From there I'll have to let you be. A real master would be too important to be expected to linger."

"You'll come back though, right?"

"Eventually. I can't make it too soon or it would look odd, but it would look odder still to leave you here and not look in at all. I don't know when it will be, but I will. It would be too dangerous to send messages. If I come sooner than expected, it means trouble."

That didn't do much to reassure him. "I really hope this works."

"I do too." It was a cold comfort, but it didn't bother them as much as the possibilities of what could come over the next few weeks or even longer. This was still better than the Thieves Guild, for all the protection it might have offered. A few people were out in the courtyard now, and inside the main hall they avoided the Thalmor agent yet again. He was barely discouraged by Aryon's very potent glare but he left them alone for now. The interior was impressive, the vaulted ceiling and tall windows an interesting choice in architecture for a place like Skyrim. All of it spoke of being very old and hiding all sorts of things that would have been great to study under better circumstances.

Aryon was just itching to look at everything and take notes and sketches, but he simply crossed his arms, looking straight ahead and seeming perfectly jaded. The rest of the class eventually filed in, and what an assortment it was! A Khajiit, a Nord, and that Dunmer woman they had seen before. Brand-Shei went to join the trio around their teacher, and Aryon took very careful note of everything except what the man was talking about. The Khajiit looked troublesome, but then they all did until they were known a bit better. It was odd to see a Nord here, but he seemed reasonable enough. The other Dunmer was the one that must be the other Telvanni student. Interesting.

All in all, this place looked promising. The only trick now was to come up with something that would keep Neloth reasonably occupied but also make it not seem like they were distracting him. Such a thing would be difficult, as innately suspicious as the man was. There were only a few things he could think of that would be more interesting than hunting down a long-lost Telvanni. For now it would probably be best to keep going with the Dragonborn prophecy to keep everyone talking about it instead of how a merchant suddenly went missing on the road.

The current lesson drifted into the practice of wards, nothing all too interesting, and once the class was over a few grouped together to practice. From what he heard the Dunmer woman was indeed the other Telvanni, a Brelyna Maryon. Aryon tried and tried to remember why that name meant something. Did he know another Maryon? Yes, another Telvanni back on Vvardenfell. It had been a long time ago in Tel Branora when he had met the fellow sorceror, but he did recall a Felen Maryon. He had been a very accomplished conjurer and enchanter; no doubt Brelyna would be under some serious pressure here from the house if she was related to him. Everything else seemed to be under control so with one last curt nod at Brand-Shei, he took his leave, hurrying with feigned importance. He would have liked to linger a bit longer but it couldn't be helped.

Only when he was well out of Winterhold did he relax slightly, glad that at least this much had gone over well. One thing that would be good about them arriving by dragon would be that nobody would expect it. Brand-Shei might have disappeared, but Brandyn had come by only hours later, much too soon to have come from Riften. A dragon near the Rift meant there may well be scorched bodies of intrepid adventurers nearby, burned beyond recognition, and maybe similar enough to have been anyone. Ahead he recognized the clearing they had arrived in, the dragon tracks already erased by the constant wind on the snow. What was incredibly odd was to see Laje-tal there by her fire with a snow fox on her lap, both of them reading a book.

Aryon was at a loss. It was just so absurd a sight he didn't know what to think. He ended up shaking his head, coming over to her slowly so he might not disturb the fox. "Are you really reading to a fox?"

Both she and the fox looked up at him with the same curious expression, almost making him laugh. "Oh no, he doesn't understand the words, he just likes the pictures." Grinning up at him she fed the little fox a bit of meat she had been roasting. "I really don't know why he came up here but I suppose he liked the smell of the rabbits I caught. I fed him a bit and he hopped right on my lap."

"And you just started reading him the Book of Daedra."

"Of course. How is our friend doing at the college?"

"I got him in, and that's about all I can do." He sat next to her at the small camp, finally disrupting the fox enough to make it skitter off nervously. "I told him most of what he should need to know, made sure he looked the part too."

"You shaved his head, didn't you? And no ears sliced off? That's one thing I'm glad I never had to do."

Grimacing slightly at the memory of his own initiation long ago, he nodded. "Too scared to move, I suppose. There was a Thalmor agent there."

She frowned at that, tossing the bones of her kill into the fire. "That doesn't sound good. I wonder what a Thalmor would want with the college. It's a place of learning, not worship."

"I don't know but I don't like it. They are too curious for their own good. Still, if Brand-Shei can keep his wits about him, he shouldn't have any trouble. After dodging thieves and other sorts in Riften, I think he will know how to watch out for himself." Laje-tal offered him a bit of a second rabbit and he took it gratefully, feeling a bit hungry. "So, when were you going to mention that you can ride dragons?"

"I couldn't just up and tell you, it was going to be a surprise." Moving around was a bit difficult after sitting here so long but she stretched on her perch on the rock, getting the blood flowing again. "I was saving it for a time I might need to surprise Neloth, that just happened sooner than planned."

"This would certainly surprise him." For a moment they just ate their meal, watching as the wind blew dusty snow high into the air over the slopes. There was a certain interesting rhythm to the wind, but it didn't stop the subtle brooding thoughts running through his mind. Most of the time he never thought much about the consequences of the choices he made in his life, but now and then something happened to drag up those thoughts again.

"You did what you could." Yet again Laje-tal saw through him, answering before he could even say a word. "We can't stop the things we have set into motion, nor could we have seen what the future might be for our choices. All we can do is choose a path and hope it is the correct one."

"I know. I just wish this could have happened under better circumstances. I wish I didn't have to tell him to treat us like strangers. I shouldn't have been the one to do this. It should have been an elder brother, a trusted mentor, preferably his father."

She frowned, not liking his doubt one bit. "His father was an Argonian, one who loved him in spite of being told he should have every reason not to. There were no brothers except the ones he might have made in the clan he was part of. A mentor may have been their shaman or their healer, not a wizard. You can't expect him to have the things others think he should, but you can know he had the things he needed." A clawed finger jabbed at his chest pointedly. "Now he has you, and I think I at least have the authority to know you are a perfectly fine mentor."

Finally he smiled, the shadow passing from his face, the weight lifting slowly. "That you do, my dear."

* * *

At the top of the tower in Tel Mithryn, Neloth tossed dozens of papers aside, tilting the table over in frustration. "Damn it! Damn all of it! Forsworn indeed! Bah! Curse you!" The reports from Fort Frostmoth had been less than what he hoped, but he had really thought his investigators would be a little more thorough once they saw the scene. It had been a very nice coverup, he had to admit, showing all the signs of hagravens and Forsworn from the Reach, not to mention the very intricate work on making the captain seem like a briar heart warrior. What those idiots had neglected to notice was that the so-called hagraven footprints were much too large to be a hagraven. What they had been were the footsteps of a very, very pesky Argonian.

All of this mess wouldn't have been so terribly frustrating if it hadn't been for the fact that clearly someone else had been quite interested in making the captain one of the undead, but not by the usual ways of doing so. The lizard had botched up who knew what sorts of new techniques! Not only that but it was rumored that she had rather promptly left Solstheim to return to Skyrim, which meant she would be frustratingly harder to track down. Well, he hadn't lived this long without learning some patience, and certainly learning how to get what he wanted. Now it was just a matter of getting revenge from a distance.

Assassins were out, at least for now. As much as he hated to even think about it, Laje-tal had actually earned her position by being incredibly talented, and Aryon was nearly her equal in every way. Average assassins would just be a waste of time and money, and the sort that actually could pose a challenge to both mages at once would be horrendously expensive and hard to find. After all, they had taken on the whole of the Dark Brotherhood in Mournhold and lived, and like it or not the Dragonborn was required to rid the world of those irritating dragons. Even sending out a thief to take something of importance to her would be risky since she had been known to be terribly paranoid about such things in the past.

What, then? Something wonderfully irritating, no doubt. He cast a rather dark scowl at his apprentice Talvas, the man reclining in a chair, reading a book. Really, did he have to be so nonchalant in the midst of such a horrible situation? "Talvas, what in blazes are you reading that's so terribly amazing that you can't be bothered to do some work around here?"

Of course being addressed directly made the man jump to his feet, not really looking as sheepish as he should have. "Oh, sorry Master, but really you should give this a read, it's hilarious!" He handed over the thin booklet, scratching his head nervously. "Ah, I mean... I needed a break from the usual books. Not that they were boring!"

Neloth just waved him aside, not really caring for excuses, but he still took the booklet, eyebrow raising at the title. "You do have peculiar tastes in... literature." He opened it enough to skim through the contents, those already high brows raising dangerously high. The overturned table might not have bothered Talvas, but his master suddenly bursting out in uncontrollable laughter certainly did.

"Master? Are you alright?"

He tossed the book aside, laughing as he righted the table. "Shut up and find me a pen!"


	9. Chapter 9

A week or so had passed since leaving Winterhold, and everything had been suspiciously quiet. There had been plenty of danger, certainly, but not from anything worse than draugr. Continuing with the Dragonborn prophecy had kept the attention of the public for the most part, even if attempting to retrieve the horn of Jurgen Windcaller hadn't gone quite as planned. That a Blades member had gotten there ahead of time hadn't been too surprising, but following her to Kynesgrove and slaying the dragon Alduin was summoning had left more than a few people a bit terrified. The dragon was dead now, of course, but it was only the beginning of what was going to be a great deal of dragon killing.

Laje-tal and Aryon went into the inn at Kynesgrove, hoping to rest after a long travel and taking care of the dragon, but of course everyone in the area was in the inn, wanting to celebrate. They left the celebrating to everyone else, sitting down in the corner near the fire to try and get away from everything. Nearby a patron was sitting at a bench, leaning over a book and laughing every so often. Wondering what could have been so amusing to keep the man from enjoying the drinking and dancing, Laje-tal leaned over to take a look. "What is that?"

The man seemed familiar but she couldn't place the name. He handed her the thin, newly bound booklet, grinning widely. "Oh, this just came out! I honestly didn't think there would be any more in this series, but someone must have been enough of a fan to keep it coming!"

Her eyes narrowed when she saw the title and she leaned over to Aryon, showing it to him with a wry smirk. "Hmph. Looks like someone has been a bit hurt over being fooled."

Aryon took a look too, chuckling. "Hah, _The Lusty Argonian Maid Volume 3_. Anonymous, indeed! I suppose Neloth finally figured it out. Really, he couldn't think of anything better to try and spite us?" Still he took a look inside, reading over it. His gaze, however, grew darker as he read on, jaw clenching and pose growing sharper. "Well... now this is new."

Snatching it back to read herself, she saw why he had been so bothered. This time he had been included in this mess.

_The Lusty Argonian Maid V 3_

_Anonymous_

_ACT IX, Scene IV, Continued_

_**Lifts-her-Tail:** Preposterous, master wizard! I have no means of enchanting your ebony staff!_

_**Aranyon:** Oh but that is not so, my talented Argonian maid. It needs but a touch of your hands to be filled with great power._

_**Lifts-her-Tail:** A fine, strong staff it must be if even the touch of a maid with no magic might make it swell with such powerful energy, but what if your Magister might find out? Your staff was not meant to be charged by one such as me!_

_**Aranyon: **Do not fret my dear, my Magister has yet to have his staff enchanted by anyone but himself. He has much to concern himself besides what services I might employ. We have plenty of time, my sweet, plenty of time._

The rest of the book went on much the same, clearly using Aryon as inspiration and of course the Magister had to be Gothren. At least Neloth had gotten that part right. Seeing that Aryon was still infuriated, she put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down as she handed back the book to its original owner absently. "This isn't any worse than last time."

He sighed, knowing he shouldn't get too upset but it still bothered him. "Something blithely written by a rather eccentric Imperial was one thing. This is a bit different."

"Hm, come to think of it though, I think you really did ask me to enchant one of your staffs once. It probably was an ebony one, too, knowing how well they could be enchanted." Seeing him only frown a bit more she sighed, not really knowing what to do. "He knows he can't reach us too easily all the way out here or he'd have sent far worse than a silly book into our path. As long as it keeps his attention on us and not on other things, then let's let it be."

"I suppose you're right. Still, this is clearly a Dunmer name. I wonder if anyone might figure out this is about us."

"No doubt. Any Argonian knows what my name means, and those who know the tongue well enough. Everyone from Vvardenfell knows about you, too, and most would know that the only sort who take the title of Magister are the Telvanni. There are some who also know us, so it wouldn't be a surprise if some people figured it out. Oh come now, don't look at me like that. We can use this to our advantage. The more chaos and scandal we can manage to create, the better."

He huffed a small laugh at that, knowing she had a point. "That's true. Ah but won't he be terribly upset when he realizes he's been helping us!" That, and Neloth would be incensed when he learned that they had been hiding away a missing Telvanni, but he didn't dare say anything in public space. "So be it, then. He'll answer for this soon enough, but for now we'll make the best of it."

"Good." Leaning over she gave him a peck on the jaw, much to the horror of everyone nearby. "I was getting tired of minding myself around you. Let's go create some commotion with those Thalmor."

* * *

The first time she met him, they were barely more than enemies. An Argonian coming into the Telvanni council house and demanding a membership had left the whole house at a loss. Legally there was nothing preventing an Argonian from joining the house, but they had never had to make such a provision in their rules up until now. The very nature of the house did that for them. Still, she had aptitude far beyond that of the average retainer, so it was with great reluctance and consternation that they allowed an Argonian into House Telvanni for the first time in known history.

Not long after joining, the masters of the house had all very subtly sent out messengers or spies to see just what this Argonian was up to, but Aryon hadn't been one to rely completely on the words of someone else, and he had decided to see for himself what sort of Argonian – a woman, too! - would choose to be a Telvanni. The word went that she was staying in Sadrith Mora, close to the council house while she ran minor errands for the mouths. She stayed at the inn, going out during the night into the wilds to do any strange number of things that the messengers never had the bravery to actually look into. He hoped to be a bit better than that.

In Sadrith Mora, there were two places to stay. The Gateway would have been a bit too dangerous for a very unconventional Argonian, so she must be at the inn run by Big Helende. It was rumored that the Thieves Guild had a heavy hand there and didn't take well to their clientele being harassed, so he waited outside at dusk until he spotted his prey. An Argonian in full mage robes was really a strange sight to behold. Even Skink at the Mages Guild preferred more average clothing, leaving the expensive garbs to the Argonians at the Assemblage in Ebonheart. It made her easy to find and follow, though, so he couldn't complain. As informed, she did seem to go out every night, and this was no exception. She walked along the pathways into the back areas of the city, then finally out to the edge of the island, well away from any onlookers.

Not wasting any time, she drew out two full grand soulgems from her pocket, a fine dagger and a book. A bit of magic made the book float in midair, pages turning on their own by her force of will. The dagger floated as well, and the moment she took a soulgem in each hand, weaving an enchantment using both of them at the same time, he knew she wasn't just another mage. A double enchantment required a hefty amount of knowledge and skill, and at the rate she was going it was clear she knew quite well what she was doing. The binding was perfect, her incantation precise and firm, holding the weapon together as she sealed a powerful spell into the dagger. At first the book appeared to be an instruction manual, but a pen flitted back and forth now and then, correcting variables and making notations. No, that was a journal or a record.

Soon the enchanting ended, and though the dagger looked to be done without any sort of major flaw, she still muttered something in the native Argonian tongue, snatching the book and pen and making some more frenzied notes. With a sigh she straightened, her voice coming clearly without more than a hint of the rasping tones of others like her. "Well, don't just sulk there, Telvanni mage. Come here and tell me if this calculation is correct."

The nerve! Who did she think she was? Despite himself he found he was moving toward her, curious beyond any sort of usual caution. Everything she was should have made his blood boil, and though on some level it did, he couldn't help his tendency to investigate. He kept a blank, cold face as he came just close enough to read her writings, looking over them with a puzzled glance. Just what was she trying to do with this? "As far as I can tell, the calculations seem sound, but I'm not sure what they are for."

"Aren't you?" Flipping a few pages back, she pointed to a page that was so heavily scribbled on that there was hardly a scrap of space left. "Right here. At some point right here, it always fails and I don't know why. No matter what sorts of souls I use, what adjustments I make to the incantation, I can never seem to make it so the enchantment never wears out. I'm close, frustratingly close, but all I can do is make an enchantment that lasts as long as a year."

He had to hold back a gulp of surprise at seeing just what she meant. It was true, that point of the enchantment had always been the bane of every enchanter, always escaping their attempts to perfect the long-lasting enchantments. Many had tried and given up, not even coming close, but there were a few surprising notes she had made here that itched at him. It really might be possible! Just to make an enchantment last for an entire year was a hard thing, relegated to items with small but constant enchantments, but for a weapon to have a permanent effect was almost revolutionary. "You come out here to waste your time on something like this?" He couldn't look bad in front of this... wizard?

"Hah!" To his surprise she grinned, all of those very sharp teeth looking quite frightening in the night. Were her scales really that dark? "I waste my time during the day doing work for your peons and when I come out here to do something that matters, you chide me for it. No, I know what you have all been doing, don't think I haven't noticed. I'm flattered you actually came out here to see it for yourself, though, instead of sending those know-nothing spies of yours. Now you have seen it. Are you disappointed?"

In all honesty he was reluctantly impressed, but he waved it off like it was nothing. "Yes. I was expecting some sort of sorcery from your Black Marsh, animal or elven sacrifices, or at least some crude necromancy."

Now she laughed in earnest, her speech and actions altogether unlike anything he would have ever expected from these beast folk. "And that would have solidified your beliefs in what exactly? Telvanni are eccentrics, Daedra worshipers, necromancers, blood-magicians, explorers of dark and dangerous things of every sort, all for the sake of progress. What more could I possibly do to drag your name further into the mud?"

She had a point and she knew that there wasn't much he could say to try and refute it. As much as the Telvanni collectively worked towards some goal or other, there was very little in the house that was actually illegal. Even if she had been doing tribal magics or something far darker, all he could do was be suspicious of it. He didn't have to like it. "House Telvanni is far more than just a collection of mages who want to do things the Mages Guild frowns upon. There is more to us than you might think."

All she did was shoot him another grin. "Now you know why I am here."

* * *

The second time they met, it had been a far different scenario. Despite all the resistance she faced, the Argonian had risen in the ranks enough to seek out a patron in the house. Her talent was undeniable, and she had unwaveringly completed everything the house had needed done, making denial of the higher ranks impossible. By the provisions of the Armistice, she had the right to advance in the house as she saw fit as long as every prerequisite was complete. Now she was here in his tower, looking rather satisfied with herself even though he also had the right to deny her his patronage. His gut clenched, though, knowing he had to take her. He needed all the help he could get for his own vendetta against the house.

"I don't know what your intentions are, Argonian, but let me make one thing quite clear. You are here because you are useful, because you can provide something for the house. You would have been killed or enslaved if it had been otherwise. I will agree to be your patron, but you must do some tasks for me."

It was frustrating to see her smirk only grow. "I know. Your message to Divayth Fyr made quite clear just how hard pressed you are to have some help in the house."

His eyes widened with shock, wondering how she could have decoded those messages. "You... no, never mind. Perhaps you really can be of some use with tactics like that. That is the sort of thing we will need to make certain the other masters will be... inconvenienced. You are at least perfectly meddlesome. Well, what say you, Argonian?"

He had only a moment to register the flash of annoyance in her slitted eyes before she shoved him back against the wall, her strength surprising him. "I think we might start with introductions, since you seem to think I don't have a name. I am Laje-tal, and I expect you to remember that."

In all of his days he had never experienced such an affront! To be attacked in his own home, by a student! Insane! He grabbed her scaled, alien hand, forcing it away enough to make his point. "Fine. To you I am Master Aryon, and I swear you will learn everything I have to teach you or so help me I will send you off to wherever you came from on the first boat out. You will start off with... by Azura, what is wrong with you?"

She looked down at her hands, noticing her magic had been swelling again, flames jumping unbidden to her fingertips. Much longer and her whole hand would be aflame. With a sigh she pulled out a potent poison, drinking it all in only three gulps, willing it to work as quickly as possible. The magic waned, leaving her relieved and clearly stumping her new teacher. "What?"

Aryon was baffled, looking down at the empty bottle with a look she found hard to describe. "Did you just drink poison?"

"Oh, yes. It's to drain magicka." Seeing this hardly answered anything, she figured she might as well elaborate."Without it I would soon be so full of magicka that I might stand on top of Vvardenfell, set out as much flame as I could, and be seen as far as Vivec City. Don't you ever have that trouble?"

He had heard of a few mages that didn't stop gaining magicka once their reserves were filled, but they were usually Bretons or Altmer, certainly not Argonians. It was dangerous to be one of these types, since being overly full meant their magic might spontaneously ignite when they didn't mean it to. They were problems in civil society, but they were terrors on the battlefield. Now, he regarded her in a way he hadn't expected. He had a small respect for her. "See to it that you don't let it become a problem."

* * *

Another time they met in his tower, he had to be honest with himself and admit he liked her. Laje-tal was unexpectedly intelligent. Though he had known in theory there were intelligent Argonians, Skink being one of them, she absorbed everything he had to teach her with a speed that very effectively startled the other masters of the house. As much as he tried to suppress news of his latest student, some was bound to leak here and there with her being the only Argonian in House Telvanni. She was a bit hard to hide. From time to time she had offered her opinion on some spells he was working on or some bit of Dwemer research, and before long he found himself seeking those opinions, slowly sharing more and more of what he was intending to do. They might even be called friends. Maybe.

Right now Laje-tal was fiddling with a Dwemer puzzle cube she had found in some ruins on a task for a Fighters Guild agent in Balmora. She would give it to him, of course, but not before she got the chance to study it herself. With one last click, the runes etched on each square of the puzzle matched, and she held it away from her, wondering if something might happen. When it didn't respond, she just huffed with disappointment. "Nothing."

Aryon took the box himself, inspecting the edges and runes with his own share of disappointment. "I suppose not everything the Dwemer made had to have a direct function. This must have just been for leisure."

"I wonder why I was asked to get it, then. Maybe just for curiosity. Have you heard anything about the Nerevarine cult and the Sixth House? He said he would have information for me about it, but I'm not sure why I'm being asked to do all of this."

"I don't know either, but sometimes people seek some strange information. I've heard of both of these things, though why some Imperials might need to know is beyond me."

She shrugged, tucking away the puzzle cube into her pack. "It was the Imperials that released me from prison so I could find all of these things out for them. I guess I was significant to them in some way. They said I was born under a certain sign to uncertain parents, that I matched the criteria, that I might be the one they are looking for. It all sounds like a bunch of nonsense."

It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. Had she really been selected by the Imperials in their desperate attempt to make the Nerevarine prophecies come to pass? Really, it was a brilliant plan, to try and send someone they chose into the province to try and become the Nerevarine, but it was also terribly preposterous. Forgetting the Nerevarine nonsense, she was still his student, someone who the future of the house would depend upon. That was all that mattered. "Well never mind that. Let's look over that Dwemer coherer again, I could have sworn something in there looked familiar."

* * *

Their meetings had turned amiable, sharing a smile or a laugh as they told stories, unburdened by their differences when they discussed a problem or a peculiar incident. At times like this, they also talked about how she was getting more and more entrenched in the Nerevarine Prophecy, though she had never intended to. One benefit of her strange adventures was her new connection to the Ashlanders, something he had been wanting for a very long time. Tel Vos was within range of an Ashlander camp, but attempts to make peace and trade with them hadn't gone as well as he would have liked. Now he had someone on the inside.

"I still don't quite understand why I'm doing this," she said. It was a hot day in the grazelands, both of them long out of their heavy robes, sleeves rolled to their shoulders as they pored over her notes. "They really seem to think that I can do whatever it is that's supposed to be done to kill Dagoth Ur. I want the blight gone as much as anyone else, but so much is being kept from me. I wish they would trust me with a bit more information."

"Obviously killing him will end the blight, but this _Progress of Truth_ has some very dangerous implications in it that I don't like. If you compare it with _The Real Nerevar_ it would seem he has built a replica of Numidium inside Vvardenfell, and the Tribunal has been using the heart of Lorkhan for some time as their source of power. Nerevar opposed doing this, but they did it anyway. That much you learned from the Ashlanders. From what I've heard, the Nerevarine is supposed to send the foreigners away from Vvardenfell, but it seems more that it is expected the Nerevarine will end the abuse of power by the Tribunal and direct the rest of the race away from this practice. The idea of ousting the foreigners seems strange if you are to do this, you being a foreigner yourself. Hm. No, Nerevar was also an outlander."

"Was he?" Her brows quirked at that, wondering as always just what sort of person this war hero had been. "I don't know if I can really do this." For the hundredth time that day she found herself furiously scratching the back of her neck, the itch almost unbearable. "Dagoth Gares called me Nerevar. It seems that at least for House Dagoth, the idea of the Nerevarine is to get rid of the foreigners, but also to get rid of the Tribunal. If I do this, won't I actually be working in Dagoth Ur's favor?"

"Not if you kill him as well." Taking a look at the sixth house amulet she had recovered, he inspected it idly. "He has been using the Heart of Lorkhan, and that's not something any mortal should tamper with, whether for good or evil. You might work in his favor, but you might also work in everyone else's favor. Maybe this was meant to happen. I wish my duties didn't keep me from joining you and seeing all of this for myself, but it does seem the best option to continue as you have been."

She sighed, touching his left forearm with a small reassurance – not knowing this was the moment she spread corprus disease to him. "Should you ever find the time, you are more than welcome to join me."

* * *

Being relieved of the corprus disease had been very much a relief indeed, and they had both been very grateful they knew Divayth Fyr quite well and had gotten treated right away. Now Laje-tal was on her way to being both Hortator and Nerevarine, just as the prophecies went. During her visits to the Ashlanders, she had also been doing a few tasks for him to strengthen the relations between House Telvanni and the Ashlanders, even if the tribes needed very little if anything from them. In the past few months, their meetings had also gotten a bit... strange.

No matter what odd tasks he asked her to perform, she always saw through his strategy, improving and adding on as she would, making things even better. Every conversation was refreshing, every insight bringing so much to light he couldn't help but feel entirely optimistic about where everything was headed. Sometimes she would even share a few odd stories from her past, and that was how he had found out she had grown up beside Dunmer and Imperials, had guarded a caravan for a time, and how she had come to be in Vvardenfell. It all explained why she was so very much unlike an Argonian, but it didn't excuse the peculiar things he felt every time he now saw her.

It would have been a simple thing if she had been a Dunmer. If that were the case, he would have just assumed he had a very strong affection for the student he had become so close to. This wasn't right. Just the thought of a Dunmer and Argonian being amiable toward each other was unheard of, especially in House Telvanni. No, this wasn't happening. He was just being too grateful for things going well for once. This was just temporary, brought on by being accustomed to foreigners, by his unusual tendencies, by years of self-imposed isolation. It was nothing.

Seeing Laje-tal enter covered in blood wasn't entirely unusual, but the look in her eyes was dangerous. Her robes were askew and opened, torn in some places and burned in others. Several scorch marks were clearly done magically, and the moment she tossed an equally torn and bloodied robe at his feet, he knew what she had done. Against his reason those strange emotions surged up anew, but outwardly he only grinned. "Congratulations, Arch-Magister."

"Save it, Aryon." She had long ago stopped addressing him by his title, and she was certainly too tired to care right now. Something in his stare made it quite plain that there was more going on here than had first appeared. It was the same thing that had been threatening to rise in her own blood, no matter how she tried to ignore it. "You didn't mention that Gothren had two dremora lords with him."

"Didn't I?" Honestly he hadn't known that Gothren was so paranoid he kept a constant summoning, but he didn't feel like mentioning it. "Maybe I just wanted to see if you really were ready for it."

Her tail flicked back and forth with agitation, the spark in her gaze only growing. "Ready! You just wanted to see if I might save the daedra hearts for you. I don't think I was so inclined this time."

"A shame. And here I was, planning what I might do with them. Really, you are getting more and more unreliable by the day."

She snorted at his blatant tease, getting the feeling that this was going to turn into more than just the usual bout of words. In the air she could feel both of their magics restlessly churning, a near spark of something threatening to burst. "I don't have to be reliable anymore, I outrank you."

"You know as well as I do that rank means little around here except what sort of stronghold you might make. Whether you can actually live up to the rank of Arch-Magister remains to be seen."

It was a meaningless challenge, just one of many sorts of things they often jokingly said to each other, but something made her shove him back against the wall like she had so long ago, only this time there was a very different sort of energy flowing between them. "Care to see it, then? I think I have proven time and again that I will do whatever it takes to do whatever I wish to do in life, no matter who gets in my way. There will either be those in front of me who will fall, or those behind me who have fallen."

The words came unbidden from his mouth before he could catch them. "I'd rather be beside you."

Understandably she was shocked, her eyes wide and her irises mere slits. He couldn't possibly be suggesting what she thought he was. Still, the way he now caught himself, brows raised and jaw clenching, he did apparently realize what he just said. This should have felt all wrong, but this time none of those thoughts came, overshadowed by their years of learning from each other, sharing both good and bad in ways unprecedented by anyone like them. Maybe it was indeed wrong, but she loved him. "Alright then. I am with you."

* * *

Over time, they had learned to compensate. Now, they each knew the coulds and could-nots of their odd relationship. To Aryon, what had once been a foreign texture of scales was now familiar, the peculiar mixture of uneven edges and hard, smooth surfaces mingling with true skin between the spaces. He avoided sharp horns out of habit now, having learned his lesson the first few times. She had a typical long, wide face, mouth still quite filled with sharp teeth that she had finally learned not to bite hard with, the tail had been something he learned to watch out for, and of course she very much had claw-like nails, but after these many years, those small things had become an afterthought. Those claws still dug into his skin, of course, but not enough to cause any real harm. He wasn't exactly the most gentle sort himself either, and more than once he was glad that she had a stronger constitution than most elven women did. Mages were rarely known to be subtle.

Morning came quickly enough and they continued on into Riften where they hoped to intercept some Thalmor looking for their target. Crashing their little dinner party was something Laje-tal had enjoyed very much, but of course they knew nothing about the dragons, just someone who would know and where he might be. This was, of course, deep in the Ratway, a perfect sort of place for anyone hiding from just about anything. It was also a good chance to see if the disappearance of Brand-Shei had gone the way they hoped. Most of the word on the streets seemed to be about dragons and the recent attack on Kynesgrove. Eventually, though, they came across Madesi talking to Grelka about Brand-Shei.

"I swear though, there's something not right about all of this," Madesi whispered, not noticing his pair of eavesdroppers. "Every week he would go out to meet with his suppliers, and every time he came back with no trouble. He never went all the way out onto the south road, the suppliers came almost into town. Why would it be that he would have had to go so far out of Riften?"

Grelka, always with a sour look on her face, seemed even more so than usual. "No idea. Mine always come right to the gates too, sometimes they even come in and just deliver. I've had to go out to the stables to borrow a horse with some of the heavier things, but not all that way. You suppose maybe he was out there for another reason?"

"He could have been meeting up with the Khajiit caravans. They don't always stop in Riften on the way to Windhelm, and they would have some of the oddities he liked to have around."

"Still seems a little strange. If they were expecting him, don't you think they would have stopped in Riften? They know better than we do how dangerous the roads are, and they also know that a safe, living merchant is much better than a dead one who can't buy their wares."

From the edges of the square Laje-tal didn't like where this was going. It was true that nobody seemed to know what exactly happened, but Riften folk were a very suspicious lot indeed, and this needed to be put down quickly. She wandered up to the square, joining the conversation cautiously. "Are you talking about Brand-Shei? I heard he disappeared on the south road."

Madesi sighed, nodding confirmation. "Right after the wedding, too. He just came over, locked up, and said he was meeting with his suppliers. Didn't seem odd except the guards said he was seen actually going beyond the gates onto the south road. I don't think he's ever gone that far to pick up a shipment, and not long after, there were three charred bodies found on that road. Looked like a dragon got to them. Maybe he was one of those people, but who were the others? Bandits? Thieves? Maybe even his suppliers? I really don't know."

She affected a perfectly puzzled look. "He took in goods from Morrowind, right? Maybe he was bringing in something he wasn't supposed to have here in Skyrim. There are some things Dunmer like to have around that... unsettle the Nords."

Naturally he frowned at that, more suspicious than ever. "What sort of things might that be?"

Now Aryon jumped into the discussion, taking up just where she hoped he would. "Skyrim has a great deal of tombs, but Morrowind has twice as many or more. Many families display the remains of their ancestors in their homes, and after Vvardenfell erupted, many had to leave those remains behind. Just the idea of doing such a thing is sacrilegious to us, but there wasn't much of a choice. He did mention to me once that there had been some remains found and identified as belonging to a couple Dunmer in Windhelm, and I bet he was out on that road so nobody would find out."

Laje-tal groaned, knowing what the Nords would think about that. "Can you imagine what Ulfric would think if the Dunmer in his city started displaying a hand or a skull in their corner shrines? Of course he would never go down and see it himself, but a shipment coming in would have to be done under more than one table. This might have been too dangerous for him to do on his own."

Across from them Madesi had paled a little at hearing the Dunmer so readily displayed dead bodies in the home, but he supposed it wasn't all that bad compared to what the Bosmer did. "If he really thought it was that important, he would do it, I know that much. He always helped me and the other Argonians with getting some of the harder to find things from Black Marsh or Cyrodiil. He helped a Redguard get something very particular from Hammerfell, too. Ah, what are we going to do now? He was probably the only one who could have helped us get hist sap."

By now Grelka had lost interest and returned to her stall, so it seemed fairly safe to talk about what it was that made the sap so terribly important. "Is it really that necessary? I don't think I ever needed it in my whole life, save from when I was a hatchling."

He gave her an odd look but then remembered who he was talking to. "I forgot you weren't raised among us. Well never mind. It's not for me, it's for Talen and Keerava. They know as well as the rest of us just how short life is, and I don't blame them for not wanting to waste any time. Without hist sap, we are as barren as the desert." Catching himself, he gave Aryon a somewhat wary look. "I shouldn't have said that."

Aryon only shook his head, dismissing it. "I figured as much anyway. I knew there had to be something like that to make you go to so much trouble to get it. Now it makes sense why it is that there aren't any half-breeds with all of the wars that have been going on. I've known of a few humans that have had... odd tastes, but nothing ever came of it."

As relieved as Madesi seemed, it was still probably true that he felt a pang of panic for accidentally divulging so much to a Dunmer, even if it was to a friend. "Just don't tell anyone else. Nothing personal, but I'm sure your Telvanni friends wouldn't have anything good to do with that knowledge."

"I know, and they may be other Telvanni, but it doesn't make them our friends. I can't begin to tell you how many assassination attempts we've avoided." He frowned, noticing that during their conversation, another conversation nearby had taken an odd turn. The moment he heard the college of Winterhold being mentioned, he was instantly alert. What he heard them saying, though, was what was making his nerves raise.

"Did you hear? They say the mages of Winterhold found something in Saarthal. Nobody can seem to figure out what it is."

"Really?"

"I heard they've been taking to calling it the eye of Magnus!"

That was all the more they needed to hear. The eye of Magnus? Anything that could gain such a weighty name had to be powerful, and of course very dangerous. If Brand-Shei was even slightly involved with this, it was something they couldn't ignore. Aryon turned to Laje-tal, noticing her dark frown. "We'd better finish up here."

As always, she interpreted what he didn't say with just a nod. "Right. Let's get this done and be on our way."

* * *

In the main hall of the College of Winterhold, Brand-Shei just couldn't believe what he was seeing. Somehow Tolfdir had gotten together enough people to transport the strange, large orb they found in the ruins of Saarthal, though why he had done such a thing was the question now at hand. The orb just reeked of magical power, even the lowliest apprentice could feel it resonating a mile away. Some of the more adept mages here at the college had even started feeling sick just from the amount of energy it exuded. Right now he was feeling a bit ill too, but for more than just this reason.

During the exploration, he had gotten quite a shock by being taken seemingly out of time just to be visited by some peculiar mage warning him of events to come. What those events were, he could only guess. It would have been nice if that mage had thought to fill in that small detail, but messengers were never clear. Feeling a bit worried just looking at the bizarre object, he retreated back into the general quarters, the relative safety of his small room comforting after all he had just gone through.

He had only a brief moment to sigh in relief before a dark shadow detached itself from the far wall, golden slitted eyes opening as it moved. Another small shock went through him before he realized that it was actually Laje-tal, clothed in dark grays and browns and blending perfectly into the wood and stone of the building. One more sigh of relief in such a short span of time; this just wasn't his week. Still, he was a bit glad that she had come to see him rather than Aryon. Although he had tried to associate a little with the other elves at the college, he still felt more comfortable around Argonians.

Laje-tal didn't waste any time, coming just close enough to speak to him but ready to blend into the shadows once again if needed. "This whole place has my gills shaking, there's so much magic here. I took a look at what your mages brought here, and I see now why everyone has been talking about it. If that really is the eye of Magus, you had better get rid of it. If you think I have power, know that that thing has ten times as much."

He just leaned back against the wall in defeat, having already guessed that. "Ah, I know. The moment I saw that thing, I knew I was in over my head, but what could I have done? They brought it here when I was out retrieving some books. I'm not exactly someone they would ask for an opinion, either."

"I suppose that's true." Looking around the inner tower, taking a good look at the college she had always wanted to investigate up close, she returned to their main problem. "You know, of course, that this will attract the attention of every mage in the province."

"I know that, I'm no fool. I didn't even get halfway into those damned ruins before some mage contacted me. Said he was from the Psijic order of all things, whatever that was."

For once, she looked genuinely shocked. It was a hard thing to accomplish. "The Psijic order? You were contacted by the Psijic order? Are you sure?"

"That's what he said, anyway." Sitting on a chair nearby, he moved closer to keep their conversation quiet. If she knew something, anything about the stranger from a place he never heard of, he sure wanted to know about it. "He had clothes I had never seen before, and I've had plenty of odd clothes come through my shop, I can tell you. There was a spell he used on me, everything around me froze and nobody heard what he said except me. I think he actually stopped time, and I can't believe I'm saying such a thing. It sounds impossible, I know, but it happened."

Her sharp teeth poked from her mouth as her lips pulled back in a dark frown, not liking this one bit. "Nothing impossible about it. That sounds like something they would do. The Psijic order predates the Mages Guild, they study the old ways of magic, and they are very powerful. Vanus Galerion himself went to the Isle of Artaeum, where he met Mannimarco, the future King of Worms. Bah, I didn't come here to give you a history lesson. Do what they tell you to do, no matter what it is. They have a farsight better than any other sort of mages, and I'm sure whatever they will have you do is the best thing that can be done."

"I didn't mean to do any of this to begin with." He threw up his hands helplessly. "I didn't even know what we were looking for in those ruins. All I was looking for was an enchanted ring or two, maybe some odd carvings, but this... this just doesn't make sense! Trying to keep my head down has somehow caused the exact opposite!"

Surprisingly she let out a short laugh, grinning at his misfortune. "I suppose you are doom-driven just like Aryon and I are."

Frowning at her light mood just a little, he wondered briefly about the absence of the ever-present Aryon. "Where is your husband, anyway?"

Now she frowned, arms crossing over her chest. Nodding in the direction of the quite cold outdoors she tried not to think of what was going on out there. "Damage control. We were followed. Between the Thalmor and the terribly curious, we've had to... clean up a little."

"Ah that's right, the Thalmor. That Thalmor agent looked just a bit too interested in the eye."

"Naturally, especially if the Psijic order is involved. They are the worst of enemies, opposed in almost every way imaginable. No doubt he wants to control the eye himself, but does he know how?"

He merely shrugged. "Don't know. I tried not to talk to him more than I had to."

"That's probably for the best. Ah but if he knows how to channel the magic from it, I hate to think of the chaos he would cause."

Now Brand-Shei was doubly curious, wondering what kind of person this strange Argonian from Morrowind was. Every now and then she gave off some hint that she was more than just a powerful mage. She had supposedly accomplished a great many things aside from now being dragonborn, and naturally he had been entirely skeptical of what he heard, but now he was seeing some evidence that it might be true. "Don't tell me you know how to channel it yourself..."

Considering that in all seriousness, she thought over just how she would do such a thing, certainly challenging but not impossible. "Maybe in time. Channeling magic outside of yourself is not too different from channeling the magic within, you just have to sway it in another direction. Don't get me wrong, you would have to be at least a talented Adept to accomplish it, but you know how you make a ward to divert magic? It's not all that different, but it is much harder. I'm sure that Thalmor is a powerful mage, the scent is strong on that one. Given the time, he could likely do it too."

"Damn! What, then? The person from the Psijics said that I was the only one that could stop this. How can I do all of that, knowing there's still that Telvanni looking for me too?"

Her frown grew darker, the reality of the situation quite plain to both of them. "Don't worry about Neloth, I will worry about Neloth. If it comes to it, I will kill him."

Giving her an uncertain look, he didn't feel as reassured as he should have. "You sound pretty sure of yourself."

"I am the dragonborn, after all. Even if he insists that I not use my dragonborn powers in a duel, I have one advantage over him and I intend to exploit it. I became Arch-Magister by killing the previous one, and he too underestimated me. Dagoth Ur may have been powerful as well, but he didn't think I would defeat him by destroying the very thing that gave him his power. Ah, of course! The Staff of Magnus! Oh I wish I hadn't lost it in the confusion of the Oblivion Crisis, it would have been just the thing we need now. I'm sure it still exists somewhere, though, the staff can't be destroyed. Yes, if you can find it, I think you would be able to do whatever comes next."

"What does it do?"

"It absorbs magic from whatever your target is. Still, I haven't any idea where it might be now. It left me a long time ago now, moving from owner to owner as it does. It's certainly not in Morrowind anymore, but is it in Skyrim? Maybe one of the teachers here might know where it is. Maybe your Arch-Mage does. Whatever you do, find that staff, I'm sure you will need it." A loud sound of a door opening startled her, and with just a turn back into the corner, she faded from sight as someone came in through the main door. The Thalmor Ancano came through the door, looking perfectly irritated as he burst into the room. Spotting Brand-Shei, he frowned, pointing at him sharply.

"You, Telvanni. There's someone who says he is from the Psijic order demanding to speak to you. I don't know if this is some kind of joke, but you are wanted in the Arch-Mage's quarters at once, and believe me, I will be listening to every word he has to say to you."

By now Brand-Shei had perfected the disdainful frown he affected every time he was in the Thalmor's presence. "Fine. I will be there in a moment."

Ancano's gaze was steely, eyes narrowing at his impertinence. "I said at once, not a moment from now. You will come with me now and we shall see what this messenger has to say."

He did follow, albeit reluctantly, knowing there was no helping things at this rate. As he left, though, he could just sense Laje-tal shadowing him, no doubt wanting to see the Psijic. Of course, he hadn't even known a thing about them, despite all of the reading he had been trying to do discreetly in the Arcanaeum. Most of what he had been reading were things about his own race so he wouldn't look ignorant if anyone asked him questions. There had been more to catch up on than he originally thought, but the more and more he delved into the history of the Dunmer, the more interested he became. He even admitted to himself that if he had stayed in Riften, he never would have learned so much. Maybe something good had come from this, even if it was something small.

Laje-tal stalked both of them into the very quarters of the Arch-Mage, slipping into every corner with an efficiency only gained after years of practice. As promised the Psijic was there in his yellow robes, sparing her a brief look, little escaping him. He knew she was there, and likely he knew who she was and what she was doing, but it didn't bother her. The Psijic Order had never shown an interest in her and she preferred to keep it that way, but that didn't mean they would ignore her completely.

She shuddered as the time magic washed over her in barely an instant, leaving her out of the conversation like everyone else but Brand-Shei, but of course they surely knew she would just hear whatever it was from him anyway. The twinge of magic still stayed with her, though, making her scales crawl with energy. Her magic resources didn't always build up from within, some of the time she absorbed latent magic from her surroundings, and right now she was going into complete overload. If she hadn't thought to bring the amulet she once enchanted to prevent her from using magic at all, she would have by now destroyed the entire room. As it was, she had to try with all of her will to keep the contents of her stomach where they belonged and her feet on the ground as the magic around her tried to pull her in every direction.

Finally Brand-Shei escaped the angered interrogation of Ancano and the confused response from Savos the Arch-Mage, and with staggering steps she somehow managed to follow him without anyone noticing. Once they reached the courtyard, though, she promptly escaped into the bushes where she finally lost control of her stomach, vomiting in the corner. There wasn't much more of this she could take. "I need to get out of here."

Brand-Shei looked around, glad that everyone was either gawking at the eye of Magnus or off on their usual studies instead of wandering about. "Do you need help?"

"No, no, I'm alright." She tried to raise to her feet but found it hard to resist the disorientation that hit her like a rock every time the eye inside the college pulsated. Despite her usual decorum she hissed with frustration, her control over her movements getting harder with every burst. "Yes. I need to get far away from here before that thing tears me to pieces."

"Alright, I think I know a way out of here where nobody will see us." He tried to help her to her feet but her legs failed to move the way she wanted them to, and with only a moment of hesitation, he picked her up and found the trap door leading down into the Midden. Deep in the caverns beneath the college, only a few creatures hindered their progress, but though they faced creatures weak to fire like skeletons and ice wraiths, Laje-tal only used her sword. Confused, he turned to her with a frown. "Why not just burn these things? Aren't you a fire mage?"

She just hacked apart another skeleton, pointing to the amulet at her neck. "I can't. I can't work magic when you have that thing at the college, I'd destroy everything. If there's a distant island you know of around here, I'll show you what I mean. Don't worry, I've gone without magic before."

"If you say so. I think this leads outside."

"Good." She staggered again as another particularly strong pulse shot through the air, and even Brand-Shei shuddered at the feeling. The magic surged up her spine, knocking her to her feet. "By Azura, I never expected that thing to have so much power."

"It's like my skin is trying to creep away from me." Again he picked her up whenever she stumbled, both of them delving deeper and deeper into the Midden. They passed by a curious altar with dozens of candles about, a note labeling it the atronach forge. Whatever mysteries it held would have to wait, and deeper still they delved, looking for the exit. More creatures lurked in the depths, but between the two of them they dispatched them easily. Another odd room held an even odder artifact, a daedric gauntlet, and they left that alone as well as things grew darker and colder. At long last they spied a glacial crevice, leading out into the wilderness. The ice and snow never looked so welcoming as they did now.

Overlooking the small cliff they were near, she spotted an island not too far in the distance. "Unless you have something that can drain magicka, I need to burn it off. I think there are some ruins out that way." They descended the cliff carefully, heading north and slightly west past the ruins, not stopping until reaching a small peninsula barren of everything except spare scrub and horkers. Behind, the college was a smudge in the distance, far enough for anyone seeing anything to not know who was doing what. "Damn, where did I put those seeds..." With a bit of pique she realized she had left the spare seeds in her mage cloak, this travel gear not equipped for her... emergencies. At least this island had an enormous supply of big, heavy rocks. "Alright, you might want to back away."

Retreating to the edge of the shore, he watched as she took off her amulet, her skin glowing with a bluish light the second it left her neck. She was clearly holding back the magic with the last bit of willpower she had, directing the energy to the biggest rock she could find and weaving a powerful enchantment around it, lifting it into the air. With a flick of her hand the enormous boulder, the size of the very inn at Riften, creaked and groaned, splitting apart in two. The process was repeated on the smaller pieces several times over until she had a pile of broken rocks too small to require heavy force to break further. Another boulder about the same as the last suffered the same fate, bursting into pieces as finally the magic started to wane. As she sighed with relief, her control finally coming back, Brand-Shei felt it safe enough to approach her, albeit with a bit of awe. "How in all the world are you able to do that?"

Shaking out some latent power from her hands she shook her head, knowing the truth had to come out sooner or later. "I'm a mage that doesn't stop storing magicka once I'm full. I don't even know at what point I am full, no matter how many years I've spent trying to find out. It's the one advantage I have over Neloth, the same I had over Gothren. That, and of course they never looked far beyond their noses when a problem needed solving. You can make up for lack of power with enough cunning. Ah gods, where is Aryon? He's taking a bit long." Magic built up again even though they were a fair distance from the college, and not knowing what else to do she struck the pile of broken boulders with a blast of flame so hot and intense it began melting them, the surge reaching a larger boulder. The whole area lit up with the hot light from the blast, a small beacon in the midst of the island. "There, that should do it. He should be able to find us now. Are you going back to the college?"

"I have to find that staff you mentioned, the Psijic agreed that it was what I needed. I'll ask around and see what I can find out about it, someone has to know something. I think I'd better stay here until you get your magic back under control."

"That might be a good idea, just don't startle me. It never ends well." Now she fed the fire she had started with a steadier jet of flame, adjusting it every now and then to the ebb and flow of the surges that still pulsed through the air. Nearby Brand-Shei was occupied with fighting off a pair of horkers while she did what she could to keep from obliterating the rocks entirely, his short sword making fairly quick work of the giant beasts. Finally Aryon appeared on the island, clothing a mess and clearly having fought off a good few people in his attempt to keep others off their trail. Looking at what they were doing, he sighed.

"Hasn't it tapered off at least a little?"

Laje-tal cut off the fire without a hitch, glad that at least she could now control it, even if it did still make her skin itch. "It's not tearing me apart, if that's what you mean. That eye in the college has more power than I expected."

"Hopefully the farther away we get, the easier it will be to avoid absorbing its energy. Luckily for you I thought to come a bit more prepared." Rummaging through his pack he found the potions he was looking for, all with the sole purpose of draining magicka. "Just make sure you make them last until we get out of here."

She just took one without comment, downing it completely before putting back on the magic restricting amulet, gesturing in the general direction of the college. "The Psijic Order! Of all things! They know, of course, about this mess, and now we have to find the Staff of Magnus again to set it right. What do you make of all of this?"

"The Psijic Order? Did we finally rub off on you, Brand-Shei?" He offered the other Dunmer a somewhat apologetic grin, but he knew just like they did that this probably couldn't have been avoided anyway. No matter what they did, fate always interfered with whatever they wanted to get done. "Certainly the staff would be needed, but now the question is where? That, and I doubt only Neloth would be interested. The Thalmor, what's left of the Telvanni, the Mages Guild, I hate to think of the attention this will garner."

"I can take care of Neloth."

"I don't doubt that, but we still have to get rid of that thing. I'd bet the Psijics are wanting to do just that, maybe take it with them if they have to." Now he gave Brand-Shei a look, puzzling over what to do with the man. "Let me guess, the Psijics said you are the only one that can do this?"

"Indeed," he said, wondering just what he had done in this life to garner so much trouble. Most days he had just been glad to make a few sales without getting too much trouble from Brynjolf, maybe get a small thrill simply playing a game of dice with Indaryn from the meadery. Now he was dodging Thalmor, wizards, dragons and curious fellow students. "It's still better than living in Riften."

Laje-tal let out a loud laugh, glad that he didn't resent the changes they had needed to force upon him, and of course also because that statement was very true. "That it is!" Suddenly the world spun around her and she found herself finally going down after all she had endured during her short time here. It really had been far too long since she had channeled so much power, and now she was paying the price. She thought for a moment she heard Aryon calling her name, but she was already out, the world fading to a cold, loud blackness.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Just a heads-up, I did notice that in game, Brand-Shei hardly seems like anyone that was actually raised by Argonians. He doesn't seem to have any real traits or even anything to say from living in a place like the marsh for most of his life. So yeah, I'm going to change him up a bit, hopefully to make things make a little more sense.

A large, probably overbuilt fire crackled on what was left of the kitchen hearth inside the wreck of _The Pride of Tel Vos_, the very ship that had brought Brand-Shei to his unusual young life. "It's my ship after all," Aryon had reasoned, and he didn't argue. The wreck was in the middle of nowhere and only populated by bandits, a good place to lay low for a while. Right now the deck was just a bit too hot but it had stayed that way at Brand-Shei's insistence that it was the best way to keep Laje-tal's temperature normal. Normal, for an Argonian, just happened to be a lot warmer than everyone else.

"Argonians are actually cold-blooded," he explained, pulling another log onto the fire. "I know it doesn't make much sense how they can survive here in Skyrim, but it's a hard thing to explain. It's the Hist that makes it possible, more or less. The connection to the trees just... it's magic, of course, but I don't know how to describe it."

Aryon waved off the explanation, casting yet another worried frown at his wife. If she could sweat the same way that humans and elves could, no doubt she would be covered with it. "She's tried to explain it to me before, but I know it's impossible. I could spend hours telling you about Dunmer ancestor worship, but you would only know it in theory. It's not the same as growing up with it, knowing it from the very beginning. Do you know what's wrong with her? This seems to be more than just mage drain."

"If I were to call it anything, magic sickness would be it. I've seen it happen to a few shamans at the village I grew up in near Blackrose. There would be celebrations every now and then, and of course plenty of magic, but sometimes one would draw on a bit too much and end up like this. Here." He pointed out a few areas on Laje-tal's hand. "See how the nails are blackening, and the skin is flaking off but turning a blue color? That's mana burn for sure. What makes it different is that the mouth and throat get very dry and swallowing gets hard, a few even had trouble breathing. One or two died from it."

"I see." Not knowing what else to do, he took a small cup of the water they had been melting from snow outside, easing it slowly into Laje-tal's mouth. She reflexively swallowed it and he was a bit relieved to notice she didn't seem to have much trouble doing so. "It's strange," he began, approaching a topic he hadn't thought of in who knew how long. "We've been married for over two hundred years and not once has she ever been sick. I haven't either, not since the corprus disease. Someone tried to poison me once, and it too didn't bother me one bit. I honestly don't even know what to do anymore in the face of something like this."

"I'm guessing that's what made you immortal, too?" At Aryon's nod he just felt more confused. "I did hear a bit about it but what is corprus disease?"

"It was only a problem on the island of Vvardenfell. There was the blight, too, but corprus disease was even more dangerous. Blight could be cured with a potion or a priest, but corprus disease didn't have any known cure. Divayth Fyr, another Telvanni, spent all of his free time studying the disease, taking in victims and watching the disease as it progressed. What he tried on us was purely experimental, we didn't know if the potion would kill us or maybe make the disease worse, but it didn't. It removed all of the negative effects and left the positive ones, rendering us immortal and immune to poisons and disease. In effect, I do still actually have the disease, I just suffer nothing for it."

"You can't spread it anymore, though, right?"

"That did worry us at first but no, or we would have infected hundreds by now." He rolled up his long sleeve on the left, showing the raised bumps and scars on his skin, though with the salve he had been using it didn't look red and flaking anymore, nor did it itch, thankfully. "Just imagine something like this, only all over the entire body with open sores, pus, sometimes even limb malformation. The poor creatures in the Corprusarium were a sight, legs and faces swollen beyond recognition. Lost their minds, too, wandering aimlessly and attacking everyone in sight. I sometimes wonder if there are any left alive but after such an eruption, I would hope not."

"Vvardenfell sounds like a dreadful place."

"It was, usually, but it was home. We adapted to the ash, to the lava, to the hard life in the grazelands. The Dunmer as a whole, that is. I'm very grateful to have not needed to worry about scraping out a living from the plains like the Ashlanders did, but I respected them for working hard for everything they had. Still, it was certainly a liability living there when the mountain erupted." From an inner pocket he took out a small piece of melted, warped metal, the remnants of part of a Dwemer construct. "This right here is all that remains of Tel Uvirith, her stronghold in the ashlands. It was completely destroyed, and this was the only thing we found that could have been from it. Just when it was starting to feel like a home." He shook his head at that. "I used to hate being from a powerful family, but I knew who I was and where I came from, knew where I could go if I needed help, something I always took for granted. I never thought about anyone else, never really realized how hard of a world it could be until I met her. We're not even sure what type of Argonian she is, or where her family came from because she was raised as a slave."

"A slave..." It grew quiet, the fire the only thing overlaying the sound of the wind outside. Finally Brand-Shei checked on Laje-tal, frowning at her shallow breathing. He rolled up the travel cloak she had been using, edging it under her neck to angle her head back enough to free up the tension on the trachea. "That must have been something, being a slave for Dunmer and then turning right around and working with them. Gods, but I don't know what I did to deserve the kindness I got from the Argonians in my village. Did you hear anything at all about where she might have come from?"

"There is one thing," he said quietly, watching the fire burn endlessly, the stack of wood high and crumbling slowly. "Her parents fought in the Arnesian War. Neloth fought some of the Argonians in that war, and he said that she looks like the same type. He said they were probably from Gideon, and we've considered that, but we don't really know the different types, except for the Morrowind Argonians."

"I can see why he mistook her for a Gideon Argonian, but there are a few differences. Gideon Argonians don't have the three-toed feet, but look more like our own. Hm, wait..." Now he looked a bit closer at the shape of her horns, her face, even her tail. Her condition had seemed to improve somewhat, but now he recognized the clan she had come from. "There was a small tribe of spellcasters near Blackrose that I knew for a time. Exceptional mages, all of them. They were nomadic, looking for work or helping with any sort of magical doings. If there was a war, that would explain why her kin were there. If the money was good or if the need was bad enough, they would have fought, and they wouldn't have had a home to leave an egg behind at."

"So her kin were somewhat like mercenaries?"

"Not exactly, but some were. They would work for money, but if a village couldn't afford to pay, all they would want was a meal and a bed for a night. They were wanderers and opportunists."

What he said exactly echoed something Aryon had heard Laje-tal say once when asked about her motivations. She admitted that first and foremost, she simply grabbed on to whatever was presented to her and used it to her advantage however she could. Sometimes she would help someone simply because she felt like it, but she would work for money or items just as readily. "It does fit," he mused, now looking at her again with fresh eyes, understanding her more completely than he had previously thought possible. "We've asked other Argonians but they... I don't know, it's like they didn't want to think about the past, didn't want to remember. Maybe they didn't want to tell us."

"No, provincial Argonians go outside the marsh to live a new life, whether by choice or by force. Most of the time they prefer to live as they are, and not think too long on the life that came before. How Laje-tal became such a historian is beyond me." Managing a wry grin he prodded a bit of venison he had been roasting on the fire, testing how done it was. Satisfied that it was good enough, he took it down to start cutting. "Gods, over two hundred years. How in blazes did you manage that without tearing each other to pieces?"

Aryon grimaced. "It wasn't easy at first. Sometimes we really did almost tear each other to pieces, so we quickly decided to just let whatever we couldn't change stay unchanged. We are still different in several ways and have been at odds about some choices we have made, but it's give just as much as take. If I had been too stubborn, I would have still been on Vvardenfell, and would be miles under the ash now. Azura warned us to get out of there and I don't think I would have gotten that warning if I had continued on as I did." Casually he looked over to Brand-Shei, watching as he seemed to be in no hurry to leave. "Shouldn't you report back to the college?"

He took a large bite out of his venison, passing a few thick slices over. "They think I'm off to find the Staff of Magus, which could take days. The location of it, anyway. Luckily Mirabelle was around so I had time to ask her about it quickly before we had to come out here. There was some group called The Synod asking her about the staff also."

Now he was intrigued, his brows furrowing and a grimace threatening to form. "The Synod? Those idiots. They have no idea what they are getting themselves into. Cyrodiil mages, just so you know. If they are already poking their noses into this, you are in for quite the adventure." Taking a bite of his venison he frowned, feeling guilty about this whole situation. Brand-Shei wasn't a fighter. He could hold out against thieves, bandits, or any sort of usual threat, but he was just learning how to fully use his magic. The college was supposed to be a place to safeguard him from those worse threats, where he could finally feel comfortable sleeping in a bed without having a knife under the pillow. "I'm sorry any of this had to happen. We just wanted to keep you out of our problems, out of what you didn't even know was coming yet. Funny how that never seems to actually work. If you want us to help you, just ask and we will make sure you make it out of this, one way or another."

To his surprise Brand-Shei just laughed, though he did nod assent. "I'll admit I was hoping for a bit of help but really, how could you have seen something like _this_ happening? I know what it's like to be scrounging for scraps, not knowing when or how your next meal will come. I know enough to be grateful for some good in life, even if it comes tied to something you need to work for. This? I have whatever sort of food I could care to eat every day, a place that I can spend the nights, and if it's a bit small, well, it's better than a lousy cot in the Bunkhouse any day. No thieves, no beggars roaming the streets, and best of all, no Black-Briars! If all I have to do to earn all of that is hunt down a few artifacts, I would gladly pay that twice! I like it here, even if it is a bit strange at times. One of the teachers here is actually trying to find out why the Dwemer disappeared, by recreating the event on a small scale!"

"Please tell me you're not serious..."

"I only wish. He wants me to find some artifact too, said it was necessary to... ah... oh how did he put it... resonate the tonal energies? I have no idea what he meant. The thing was being transported from Morrowind, I know that much, and I have to figure out what happened to the one bringing it in. Dead, I'm sure, but I have to go get whatever it was he had."

Something didn't feel right. This strange item he was talking about sounded familiar. A Morrowind artifact, probably high risk, used to alter tonal energies while having an effect on the disappearance of the Dwemer. "If it is what I think it is, you will definitely need our help. One of the many things we lost in Vvardenfell were both of Kagrenac's tools, Sunder and Keening. If either of those are being transported into Skyrim you're right, the courier is certainly dead. Handling Keening, at least, without Wraithguard does a fine bit of damage to the user's health. You had better let my wife handle it, she's the Nerevarine after all."

"You need that Wraithguard though, right? Did you lose that also?"

He nodded, regretting like so many times before all the things they had to leave behind. "Yes, but I'm not worried. Whichever tool it is, I'm sure she will know what to do."

"I hope so. I really do want to see how this experiment turns out."

"I do too, to be honest, but let's try not to get our hopes up," he cautioned. "I don't know what will happen, but let her take care of it." He slumped against the slanted side of the nearby wall, utterly exhausted. It had been a long day, but he didn't dare sleep while Laje-tal was in such a state. Brand-Shei must have picked up on his thoughts, casting him a sympathetic expression.

"It's alright, I'll keep watch. I've spent a few too many nights staying up late in the library, I don't think another will do much more harm. Besides, you're going to need the rest if you really plan on helping me clean up this mess."

Aryon huffed a humored agreement, knowing that at least he had a point. There wasn't much he could do if he was too tired, and he alone could defend all of them if something worse than the usual Skyrim wildlife decided to get curious. "Very well, but wake me if anything happens. I don't want to miss any of the excitement."

* * *

"I can't imagine why it wouldn't be working. Dwemer constructs have usually been quite reliable." Laje-tal glanced at the glowing map projected on the side of the Dwemer-built wall, the very irritated Synod member they had found containing his fury for the moment. "I'll admit this technology is different from anything I've seen before." She had recovered well enough from her exposure to the eye, but now she was facing a whole new set of problems, mainly keeping information about said eye from the Synod. The one living member of the research team now glared at her and her entourage in turn, his blue mage robes hardly hiding his frown.

"This is impossible! You have something at that college of yours, I'm sure of it! Admit it! You did this! This map was supposed to show all of Tamriel!"

"What about that other glowing point right there?" She was evading him, and she hoped he wouldn't notice. "It looks like there is something magical there as well, maybe it isn't just the college."

Now he quirked his head, puzzling as he peered at the other glowing spot on the hologram. "Hm, but that would be Labyrinthian, I think. I haven't heard of any sort of thing going on in there. Now wait a moment here... don't think you can just change the subject, Argonian. You might avoid it indefinitely but we will find out what you have there! If I had my colleagues alive and with me now, I would insist on forcing it out of you, but I know when I am outnumbered. Go and see what's in there, see if I care. I'm going back to the Synod, and you will be hearing from us again!" With a huff he shoved past the group and though Brand-Shei hesitated, she waved him off. "Let him go."

Once the Synod member was well out of the room and on his way, Aryon inspected the hologram with significant interest. "Amazing. To think that they could project with light an entire map of the world. Most of it, at least. The eye of Magnus certainly must be powerful to block out something like this. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

She grinned. "That the staff might be in Labyrinthian? Maybe. It's worth trying."

Brand-Shei came closer too, though he was a bit more awed by the glowing map. He touched it with a hint of disbelief, snatching back his hand when all he felt was cold stone. "I can't even comprehend this thing. Do you really think it can show all points of magical power?"

"The Dwemer made all sorts of other things that didn't make much sense and had even stranger builds, I could easily see them wanting this. It might even have been created as a means to find the pieces of the Staff of Chaos or something of that sort. Who knows anymore? If there is the chance, though, I think we had better go make sure."

"I think Mirabelle will know more about Labyrinthian, or someone around the college."

"Better than going in blind." Taking out her pocket map, she marked the spot reflected on the glowing map with a scrape of her pencil, making a few notes in the margin. It was messy enough as it was with other notes, but it was too much a force of habit to try and stop. As soon as they compared their other observations, they headed out of the round oculory to the main entrance, but once they reached the bright light of the chilly outer ruins of Mzulft, a figure detached itself from a tree, approaching the group warily. Once he came close enough, Laje-tal drew back in surprise and Aryon reflexively put a hand on his dagger. "Talvas?" she said with a touch of shock, readying her own stance. "What are you doing here?"

Pulling his hood around his face further, the Dunmer came closer, keeping his voice low. "Quiet, someone might hear us. Look, I know we haven't had... the best of introductions, but there's... well, I don't know how else to put it. I think Master Neloth has finally gone mad!"

A brow raised, not sure how he meant. "As opposed to how he usually is?"

"I'm serious. He's been raving about some oddity at the Winterhold College and how it could revolutionize magic as we know it. That's nothing unusual but when he left behind his book of notes, I went to grab it to bring it to him and... well, look at this. The book opened to this page." He passed over a very heavy book, filled with who knew how many years of notes and work, paging through it until he found the spot he marked. Front and center was something anyone who studied conjuration would recognize, a page filled to the margin with a complete set of summoning runes, but what it was summoning was uncertain.

"This doesn't look like any sort of creature summoning I know about, not even for Xivilai. If I didn't know any better, I would say this was to try and summon a... oh, it can't be!" She hastily stepped over to Aryon, unceremoniously digging into his side pocket in his jacket where she knew he kept his newer journal. Naturally he was a little indignant about it but he was used to her getting caught up in the moment and just let her take it. Once she found the right page, though, it was clear to all of them just what she was thinking. At one time they had gone to see the odd museum in Dawnstar displaying relics from the Mythic Dawn, and Aryon, being the ever observant one, had sketched the remnants of the summoning page from the Mysterium Xarxes. "It looks just like this, but not... not quite. This page was meant to get the attention of Mehrunes Dagon, but what could this one be for? Or who?"

"Hermaeus Mora..." Everyone turned as Brand-Shei brought attention to his usually passive self, and once he noticed their glances he just crossed his arms nervously. "He's the one that taught you the bend will shout, right? The one you use to make the dragons come down to serve you? What better way to learn more about it than to summon the one who knows?"

"Ah, of course! How could I not have seen that? Well, he better have memorized this because it isn't staying any longer." Taking great care to cut the page out of the heavy tome, she then passed it to Aryon. "Here, you have page memory, why not save this one for another time?"

Aryon took the page with a touch of disgust, wondering at what exactly Neloth thought he was doing. "Tampering with daedra never did seem to bother him." Once he memorized the page, a small rune in the corner caught his eye. "Don't burn this one. It has protections against that."

"How annoying." Still, she wouldn't be an expert mage if she didn't know how to dispel a simple spell against fire, and it was only a moment before she burned it safely. "Hm... well now the question is, what was he intending to do? He was strangely interested in how the bend will shout Miraak used left everyone in town subject to his will. At first, they were only controlled by night but eventually they were influenced at all times. What if... oh. He couldn't be intending to use the eye of Magnus! Summon Hermaeus Mora, learn the bend will shout, use the power of the eye to expand its influence..."

"He would do it." Memorizing the next few very controversial pages in the book and destroying them after, his only emotion was one of resignation. "There isn't much if anything that can get you expelled from House Telvanni, but he has come close on more than a few occasions. Necromancy on former Arch-Magisters, turning a living one into a lich and sending it back to the family, conspiring with the Mages Guild to knowingly inflame tensions with the house, you name it. I can't much be surprised at anything he might do anymore."

Talvas hesitated as he watched the hefty book be destroyed page by page, the troubling but still useful information lost bit by bit. "I didn't think it would get like this. I never thought so, or I wouldn't have apprenticed myself to him to begin with. It isn't much, I know, but I would like to help you. I don't know much about any of you, but I couldn't think of anyone else who would know what to do." He looked at Laje-tal, now measuring her with a fresh eye. "I didn't know why he kept making such a fuss over an Argonian, but you must be different to make him so obsessed. I thought if nothing else, you might have some ideas. If he really does mean to do all of this, he needs to be stopped!"

Laje-tal sighed, feeling a bit remorseful as well about destroying the book, even if Aryon could well memorize the entire thing. "I felt the power of the eye, and it has more than enough energy to fuel a spell like that on a large scale for a long period of time. No doubt the Psijics will be writhing in their seats when they hear about this, and might even forget their vow not to tamper with the turn of events. Are you sure you want to do this, Talvas? You'd be betraying your master, you know."

"I know." Gripping his cloak further around him against the cold, he felt an uncertainty he hadn't known for a long time. "I'll be doing a lot of things I've always been told not to do. Conspiring against a superior, destroying valuable research, associating with Argonians." He huffed a small laugh at that. "He knew you, though, so he must have associated with you, even unwillingly."

Under the weight of what might well come, she found it impossible to grin at the thought of all the times she had forced his cooperation. "If you're to do this, then, you should know who I am and the real extent of what you are doing." Pulling off the thick winter glove on her left hand, she showed him her moon and star ring. "I know you will find this impossible to believe and at first I did too, but I'm the Nerevarine from Vvardenfell. Neloth didn't just know me, I was his superior in the house. I challenged the former Arch-Magister to become that myself, all while fulfilling the prophecies of the Nerevarine. I wouldn't recommend testing the ring to see if it really does kill anyone but me, I guarantee it does indeed work that way."

"You're insane too." He frowned in disbelief, looking at her two companions to see if either of them were in on the joke, but neither shifted in their moods, both looking grim. "That can't be true. How would an Argonian even get into the house, much less be of any significant rank? How could one be the Nerevarine? I thought the Nerevarine was a Dunmer man."

"Neloth told you that?" Seeing the man's somewhat penitent gaze to the side, it confirmed what she thought. "It figures he would spread stories like that, few are left alive who could refute it. Believe it or don't, it doesn't matter. I only told you so you would know." Her stomach suddenly lurched, not quite fully recovered from her ordeal with the eye of Magnus, and she retreated inside her cloak, the world suddenly feeling very, very cold. "If you're coming, then let's go."

Aryon was about a fourth of the way through the pages in the book, but he noticed her faltering right away. He put the thing away in his pack for later, taking off his long overcloak and wrapping her up in it tightly. "You're overdoing it again. I know we have to move quickly but we can't keep pushing on like this if you can't handle it. Can you make it to Kynesgrove?"

"Yes, it's not that far, I don't think." She reached to pick up her pack, not sure when she had dropped it, but leaning over made the world spin violently and before she knew it, she was on the ground again. "Gods, Aryon, I want to but... I just can't."

Picking her up carefully to not disturb her orientation any further, he turned towards the southeast. "Not much help for it, we'll have to head over to the Imperial camp nearby."

Brand-Shei took out one of the potions from Laje-tal's pack that he remembered drained away her excess magicka, uncorking it for her as she reached for it gratefully. "Do you think they will help us?"

Nearby, though, Talvas withdrew suddenly, brows furrowed. "Imperials? Are we really going to go beg sanctuary with Imperials?"

"Yes," Aryon said with complete conviction, challenging the former apprentice with a glare. "She can't make it to Kynesgrove and we're running low on supplies. I'm not going to risk a night in the wilderness with her in this condition. Wait here if you want, but I'm going." He headed down the pathway leading out of Mzulft, Brand-Shei not far behind, and before long Talvas also followed along with resignation. Certainly he knew that without the group he would be out here on his own, and he had still betrayed Neloth. Burning his bridges behind him had been a risk he had hastily taken and now he was paying for it. Now he was doing yet another thing he had sworn never to do, associating with the Imperial Army.

The road into the camp was cold and rough but thankfully short, the camp fires a welcome beacon in the waning day. Most of the soldiers were eating around their individual fires or working on their gear or weapons, but they all rose to attention as the unusual band of mages wandered into their sight. Some withdrew and unsheathed their weapons defensively, while someone went to fetch the camp's leader. Before long a well-armed legate rushed out of his tent, armor hastily donned and a frown on his face. A few others quickly surrounded the mages, and the legate regarded them warily. "Hold, travelers, you are in Imperial territory. What is your business here?"

Aryon stopped as the others in his party instinctively came closer to him, forming an equally defensive circle. His instincts pricked at the many weapons being pointed his way, but Laje-tal suddenly shivered in his arms, bringing him back in focus. "My wife is sick and needs help. We've come to seek shelter if we can."

Of course the man was skeptical, looking at the woman who was so heavily bundled he couldn't even see her face. The cough that came from her, though, was very much a real one but it was a hard time to be letting in strangers. "I'm sorry, but this is a time of war and it's hard to give over trust so easily. I can't let you all stay here."

Laje-tal pulled the cloak away just long enough to show the man her face, her vision blurring but still able to meet his gaze, managing some sarcasm even now. "If you want Alduin dead, I'd suggest letting us in."

As expected the man looked at her strangely, not sure how to receive such an odd group but knowing who she was and what she meant to the Nords. "Dragonborn? The Nords think you're some sort of hero, you could be working with the Stormcloaks!"

Aryon gritted his teeth, irritated."You really think such as us would work with Stormcloaks?" Still, the man had a point. "Surely you can tell that she couldn't harm anyone the way she is. It's magic sickness, and she can't travel any farther."

"Magic sickness?" He relaxed somewhat, at least no longer holding his weapon in a death grip. "I'm afraid I don't know much about that. Well... I suppose you wouldn't be Stormcloak spies. They wouldn't want to work with your kind anyway. I'll see if one of our healers can take a look at her." The rest of the soldiers let back enough to let them in but still kept alert, clearing out one of the smaller supply tents enough to set up a small pallet. Brand-Shei gathered a large amount of firewood together and started a hearty blaze just outside the fragile tent, watching as Aryon sat carefully nearby, letting Laje-tal get some warmth.

She tugged off both of her gloves, reaching for the blaze gratefully. "Thank goodness, I was getting numb. I'm alright now, Aryon, you don't have to coddle me."

"Nonsense." Behind her he only took off another layer, draping that too around her shoulders. "If I have my way you won't move from that spot for the rest of the night."

"Have your way, then." Shivering despite the fire right in front of her and the several layers of clothing, she looked over at Talvas, who was giving her an odd look from the corner. "Before you ask, yes, Aryon and I really are married. I suppose I should have mentioned that."

Once again Talvas wasn't sure if this was another joke, but again he could tell that it was the truth. He just couldn't fathom all of the things he had been told today. "I can't believe this." Sinking down to sit near the wall of the tent, he held his head, the world as he knew it crumbling piece by piece. "I just... do you know what I've been told since I was born to House Telvanni? Argonians are the lowest of the sentient creatures, barely more than beasts, useful for menial labor but not much else." Nearby Brand-Shei held his tongue, knowing this was simply how other Dunmer had been raised, but he still clenched his jaw. "Related to dreugh, or so it said in the handful of books on them. But a mage, a highly skilled one? A scholar, historian, maybe a writer? We thought they were mostly illiterate, that they couldn't comprehend half of what they read anyway."

Laje-tal snorted, tossing another log onto the fire. "It often starts that way, but there is always a time when you can make a change in your life. Whether or not you actually make that change is what shows whether you are intelligent. Do you really want to go back to thinking that way now?"

"I don't know what to think anymore."

"That's a start." From the edge of the camp someone approached their tent, wearing full healer robes and hood. It was a woman, and after a puzzled glance around, she turned to the group.

"The legate said there was a woman with magic sickness in here?"

"Over here." Laje-tal waved the woman over, turning to the side long enough to let her in. The other woman was also a Dunmer, getting up in years but still retaining the lasting youthfulness of her race. Something about her seemed familiar, but the right side of her face and body were so covered by scars and burns she wasn't sure. Once the woman drew closer to inspect her, though, not wavering in the slightest in treating an Argonian, it became clear just who it was. "By Azura is that you, Tunila?"

"Laje-tal?" Pulling back her heavy hood, revealing her ever-white hair, her eyes widened in surprise at seeing the master of Tel Uvirith for the first time in over two hundred years. "It is you! We all thought you dead!"

"There were many close calls, for sure." Looking back at a baffled Aryon, she nodded toward him briefly. "You remember Tunila Omavel, right? She was the house healer at Tel Uvirith. Why, you were just a novice when you came into my service, I wondered every now and then what had become of you and the others. You were burned by the ash, weren't you?"

"I was, but never mind that. Let's see about that magic sickness of yours. I always knew you would overdo it someday."

"It was that damned eye of Magnus they have at the college. I was so full of magic from that thing, I didn't have a choice but to let it go." She let the woman poke and prod at her as she would, inspecting this and that as she determined what sort of action to take. "What of the others? Are they alive? I never expected you to follow an Imperial army."

Tunila sighed, summoning a bit of light to help the process. "I never did either, but a lot happened after you escaped. All of the other Dunmer knew I worked for you, and though at first I only did so because it was my duty as a member of the house, everyone knew we all grew to like you over the years. Nobody else would take us because of it, not after we worked for an Argonian. Gorven managed to find work as an alchemist in Cyrodiil, and Hlendrisa fled to Ebonheart, though I don't know where she went from there. She left a hard trail to follow, which I'm certain she did on purpose. Farena was nearly executed, she was accused of aiding Argonians during the Accession War. Being associated with you was all the proof they had, and Queen Barenziah quickly threw that nonsense out of court. It caused quite a stir, though. House Redoran was divided for a while on their stance on how to handle all of the people that had been known to aid you after the war, but you can see how that turned out."

"They soon had better things to worry about." Groaning in relief as a warming salve was rubbed into her stiff and frigid hands, she stretched her aching joints carefully. "Any idea what happened to my Mouth? I haven't even heard if he might have died."

"I'm not sure either. Oddly enough, he joined the Twin Lamps for a while but... I'm not sure why. I know he enjoyed working with you, but to help other Argonians? The last I heard was that he had also gone into Cyrodiil."

Laje-tal smiled to herself, having a small idea of why Eddie had done what he did. After seeing what just one slave could do when given the chance to change their path, he may have been inspired to see just how many others might do the same. "I'm sure he's doing well with whatever he might be doing. I wish I could ward off this magic sickness."

"There isn't much that can be done," she admitted, handing a strong bitter tea over to her. "You are awake at least, and able to talk and move without much trouble as long as you are resting, so the worst is over." Sitting on a nearby cushion to mix up another batch of salve to use on mana burns, she turned to the rest of the party, looking at Aryon in particular. "Ah, Master Aryon, it's good to see you also. How has that long and torturous adventure we call marriage been going for you?"

He laughed at that, having missed her good humor. "I knew that being with the Nerevarine would come with its own host of problems, but I didn't think it would come with a Dragonborn!" Over the course of the next hour he relayed the highlights of most of what happened since the Oblivion Crisis. By then everyone had more or less gotten used to each other, and even Talvas came closer to the fire as they split rations and ate quietly as Aryon spoke. "We lost the Staff of Magnus long ago, of course, moving from one owner to another as it does, but it's the only thing that could help us with the eye. We suspect it might be in Labyrinthian, but we're going to see if anyone at the College knows more."

"I'm sure it will work out. The staff should remember you, I've no doubt it will let you find it again." Now she gestured at Talvas, who was still sitting uncomfortably on the fringe of their circle. "I feel like I know you from somewhere. Who is the youngling?"

Talvas unconsciously pulled farther back, looking at her nervously. "Ah... Talvas, also Telvanni. I'm Neloth's apprentice. I mean... not anymore."

"All for the better, to stay in one piece. I had been with the house for a long time even before I went to serve at Tel Uvirith, and I can tell you that Neloth was a hard sort of person even then. Lost everything to the blight, that's when he started to change."

Aryon frowned, not remembering anything like that. "When was that? At the beginning of the failure of the Ghostfence?"

"Long before that, actually. The blight had been around for a very long time already, and though the Ghostfence was in place it didn't keep all of it inside. Back when we first investigated it, we didn't know what it was or what it could do. I'll admit I have used some of the spells in the past to alter my aging, so I am older than I look. Much of the house was called in to research what had been suddenly infecting the local wildlife, but he had been away on the mainland taking his place on the council there for a few weeks, so he wasn't there when the team came down with the blight. Many couldn't be helped. Nobody knew what to do, and finally when I was just trying to come up with something halfway passable to eat, I mixed scrib jelly and ash salts together and it fixed me right up."

He looked away into the distance, understanding better now why Neloth had been so intractable when the blight bypassed the Ghostfence entirely and started terrorizing all of Vvardenfell. By then he had already known so much death. "So you managed to cure the rest of them. How many survived?"

"Only myself and about five others, and there were thirty of us. Everyone he had left in his family died in those days, his wife and his son as well as his brother. There was a second cousin of his, she made it out alright, but when he returned to the news, he just... left. He shut himself up in his tower, refusing to have anyone bother him unless it was important."

"If he had kept things that way, this wouldn't be necessary." Sparing a glance at Laje-tal, who had been unusually quiet through this exchange, he frowned, looking her over with a touch of concern. "Are you alright?" He took her shaking hands in his, doing what he could to warm them up. "Your hands are almost as cold as High Hrothgar."

She ignored the question, though she did not withdraw her hands. They did indeed feel like they were nearly icicles. "I understand him somewhat. I'm sure you do, too. It's a hard thing to have people you care about die, especially when you know that had you been there, maybe you could have helped. I might not have had that feeling with my own family, but I made many friends on Vvardenfell and I can't imagine how many are now dead. Jobasha and his questionable bookstore, Skink at the mages guild, and of course Baladas, he was much too stubborn to leave Gnisis, and who knows what happened to Divayth and his odd daughters." Her voice was quiet, maybe a bit weakened by the mage drain, but there was no mistaking the finality of what she had to say. "In a way, we have both lost everything more than once, but it is what we do after that determines what path we will take. He can go ahead and sink deeper into his hatred, but he will suffer the consequences for it. We can give him a choice, but once he has chosen, there will be no going back."

A heavy silence descended on their small group, all huddled inside the cramped tent getting what little warmth they could in the lower mountains. None of them wanted to break that silence, knowing that if they did, the tension would only worsen. Finally Tunila sighed, wrapping a spare blanket around her shoulders. "I'll take second watch. I never could sleep through the night easily." With that all possibility of conversation was gratefully ended, the rest of them dividing first and last watch evenly. Whatever might come, it could wait.


	11. Chapter 11

Laje-tal shook out a long pair of layered enchanted silk gloves, inspecting the corpse they had found with a calculating glance. "Looks like he's been dead for a few days now." Rolling the partly decayed body of the man, nose wrinkling from the smell, she pried his stiff hands from what had killed him – Keening. She didn't take any chances with the cursed blade, taking it only once the gloves were in place. Without wraithguard, there was always the chance it might cause some damage to its user.

"Hardly looks any worse than the day we lost it." Aryon watched from a safe distance, still paging through the large book. He was still only halfway through it. "You ready to give it a try?"

"Might as well." Holding the blade with her right hand she slipped the glove off of her left, the same that had the moon and star ring. "Ah, just don't burn me this time, Keening. I write with this hand you know." While everyone else stood back, ready to intervene if need be, she grabbed Keening without the glove, bracing for possible pain. As soon as she touched the hilt, her ring glowed a sharp gold, an odd resonating sound the only reaction she received. She let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. "I never could get used to this."

"At least it remembers you."

"Maybe." Keening ended up sheathed where her other dagger had been in her belt, and already she felt better knowing they had found it again. It was only too bad they didn't have Sunder. When she mentioned this to Aryon, he only threw his hands up in dismay.

"I can't even imagine all the trouble someone went to just to retrieve Keening. Nobody would be able to accomplish anything without both anyway. Let's just make sure we don't lose it again."

"Yes, well, let's then hope that daedra don't come pouring in through the door in the black of night again and catch us asleep and steal it."

Brand-Shei and Talvas now approached, the former looking at Keening contemplatively. "Hm, I wonder why Arniel would need this and that warped soulgem. Will you be alright with lending it to him?"

"I think he's a fool to try it, but I understand why he's doing it. The disappearance of the Dwemer has puzzled more than just mages ever since it happened. There are many theories, of course, but no witnesses and no concrete evidence. He can try, but if he dies I can't say I didn't try to warn him." The others turned to leave, but she hesitated. "Wait. It seems a shame to leave him here." She turned back to the corpse, frowning at it. Too young. That Dunmer was just too young to be doing such an idiotic errand. "We should commit him to the fire."

Aryon huffed, tearing yet another page out of the book. "Go ahead. I'll toss all of these damned pages into it. Why did this thing have to be so wordy?"

"Because Neloth wrote it, of course." Once she spotted a flat enough space of rocky terrain, she grabbed the body of the young man, dragging it as best as she could. Brand-Shei looked anxious, though, and watched her nervously.

"Do we really have time for this?"

With a sigh Aryon came up to him, shaking his head. "If he doesn't go to the fires, he won't properly join his ancestors. Even a murderer or thief should join their ancestors quickly to face judgment. Souls that linger too long might get lost in the mortal plane."

"It sounds complicated."

Talvas eyed Brand-Shei oddly, frowning as he watched Laje-Tal from the corner of his eye. "Nothing complicated about it. Why is it she knows all about our rituals but you don't?"

Now Aryon swore under his breath, but Brand-Shei faced the question head-on. Talvas was as much captive as he was free, there was no need to fear his potential reaction. "I may well be Telvanni, but I was raised by Argonians."

"What?" He recoiled with understandable shock. "Why? Why didn't they kill you? They must have known what the Telvanni did to their kind."

"For a long time, I didn't know why. It was that sort of thing you would tell your children to just wait until they were older to understand. I was just a baby, they could have killed me, could have left me to get eaten by the various monsters in the wilds. Instead I grew up with their own children, knew only the customs and ways of our village, and I guess they just accepted that I was there to stay. When I was older, I finally knew the answer."

Laje-tal huffed with frustration as she dragged a large log onto the flat rock, waving them all over. "You can tell it while we get this pyre built. We'll only have time for this if I don't do it by myself!"

"Sorry." They both rushed over to find dry fallen logs to burn, Aryon putting away the book long enough to contribute a few pieces himself. The ever-present pervasive cold fought them as they arranged the logs in the best way to catch fire, their breaths coming in foggy puffs. "My father used to say that the cycle of hatred would only end if someone ended it." Brand-Shei turned to glance at Talvas, the other Dunmer still listening but clearly skeptical. Not that he expected any differently. "They stopped seeing me as a son of the Telvanni and instead as the son of my adoptive father and mother. Argonians find it hard to express themselves in a way we can understand, but they can love and hate just as easily as anyone else. Even when I decided to leave to see the world for myself, I knew I had a family I could go back to when I wanted. They are all dead now, of course, but even so the village will remember me."

Talvas stayed quiet as he watched Laje-tal strain to position a rather heavy log on the pyre, checking the formation to make sure it was correct. She observed every small detail as if this dead man hadn't been a complete stranger but perhaps one of her own house. Never in all his days had he ever expected to even consider changing his mind about so many things that had been part of his life. Gods, what would his father say if he knew? Could he really even claim now that he was being forced to cooperate against his will if brought to task in front of the council? Instead of lingering on it, he focused on their task now that the fire was ready to be lit.

"Hm, well, normally the family might say a few words, but there isn't much to be said," Laje-tal mused aloud, readying a ball of flame in her hand. Aryon came next to her, summoning his own fire.

"We'll keep it simple, then. We knew him not, but may he join his ancestors in peace and with honor." As one they shot flame to the tinder at the base of the pyre, Brand-Shei and Talvas quickly adding their own as the fire rose higher and higher. The body was quickly alight, and once they were certain the strong winds wouldn't put it out, the site was left behind. It was enough that they had done what they could to return the unknown thief to the ash. They had found out from the college the location of Labyrinthian, and in the wake of the Arch-Mage's death no less. Fortunately he had left behind the key to open the door to the deep cave. The only reason they hadn't gone straight to Labyrinthian was because Laje-tal didn't want to risk anyone else finding Keening.

"So what does Keening do?" Surprisingly, Talvas had been starting conversations with her. Usually they were small, inconsequential things but this was the first time he had brought up anything related to her Nerevarine past. She raised her spiked brow and eyed him with amusement but didn't comment on it.

"We still can't completely know its original purpose, but from what the only surviving Dwemer was able to tell me, it was used to alter tonal energies. I didn't really know what that meant until I struck the heart of Lorkhan with Sunder. That thing gave off the most dreadful noise as it struck with a great deal of power, but when I struck it as I was told with Keening five times after, it changed the sound. Something about that sound made the heart warp, and just like that it vanished into nothing. I'm not sure if I caused it to disappear or somehow killed the thing, but it went away."

"That's fascinating! It disappeared into thin air? Do you suppose it might have gone where all the Dwemer went?"

"It seems likely. We do know that Kagrenac's tools were involved in their disappearance, so it would seem logical. But then again, where did they go? Oblivion? Another plane of Mundus? Nowhere? If they went somewhere, is the heart now with them? Are they using it again? They can't without the tools, but did they make new, better ones? It's impossible to know, and in two hundred years I haven't found any clues."

"Dagoth Ur used the heart, right? So you killed him?"

"He was immortal until I destroyed the heart." Now she grinned at him, for once not terrifying him with all her sharp teeth. "What, so you believe me now? There were times I could hardly believe myself, I know, but you?"

He coughed nervously, ignoring the amused looks of the other Dunmer in their group. "You couldn't make something like this up, and there hasn't been one account written about just what had happened under that mountain. Even the most descriptive history books just say that Dagoth Ur was destroyed, and the heart of Lorkhan with him."

"It was a hard thing to do. Not killing him, though. Once the heart was gone, he was entirely vulnerable to any sort of technique I wanted to use. No, I found his opinions to be rather sympathetic, though he went about his goals in all of the wrong ways. He tempted me, and I'm ashamed to say that for a moment, I listened."

Aryon put a hand on her shoulder, eyes shadowed as he also remembered that difficult moment. "I'll admit I listened too. There was a reason he had become as powerful as he had. His ideas were just the sort that many Dunmer held, it was easy for him to get many followers."

"He said that he, too, wanted all of the foreigners to leave Vvardenfell, and return it to how it once was. I thought maybe he meant like the Ashlanders, or he might leave the Great Houses, it was hard to say. He believed in sharing the power of the heart with everyone, but I guess in the end I was too much like Nerevar for him to sway. I destroyed the heart, and then I destroyed him and cast him into the lava."

"You really are the Nerevarine," Talvas said quietly. "Only the real Nerevarine would have found it hard to kill Dagoth Ur. I read somewhere that the two had once been the closest of friends, and even though Dagoth Ur had caused so much destruction, it's still hard to kill someone who had once been your friend."

"Just so. When the tools were first found by Nerevar and his men, he had given them to Dagoth Ur to guard until it was decided what to do with them, that's how much he was trusted. By the time they could hold a council about it, the tools had already tempted and corrupted him. He was driven off, but then of course the tools came into the possession of Nerevar, Vivec, Sotha Sil and Almalexia. They too were tempted to use them, and although Nerevar tried to stop them, he died and they had nothing left to keep them from breaking their vows. I'm sure you know the rest."

"Yes, though it was never clear just how Nerevar died. Some even say the Tribunal killed him."

She frowned, still looking ahead as they moved onward. "Almalexia killed Sotha Sil, it wouldn't be too far of a stretch of the imagination to think they killed Nerevar too."

"What? Almalexia did? I never heard any sort of nonsense like that! Sotha Sil disappeared, just as she did!"

"Ah, now that is one little piece of history that I kept to myself. She had tasked me with investigating his Clockwork City, but when I reached his chambers, he was already quite dead. No, she had lured me there and presented me with an ultimatum. Either join her, or die. Obviously I picked the option to instead kill her. She was mad, and I killed her just as I had to kill Vivec. I let everyone believe that the Tribunal simply vanished. If I had told the truth back then, I really would have had every sort of person wanting me dead. Now, I suppose the truth doesn't matter one way or the other."

Talvas said nothing, silent as the trek continued. Doubt and belief warred evenly in his mind, the story having just the right amount of a ring of truth to it. It was true that nobody knew where the Tribunal had gone. Bodies were never found, nor anything else. It had happened too cleanly, too quietly to be anything but foul play and though suspicion ran rampant for weeks afterward, no one had been found to be suspect. That it had been the Nerevarine, the one who had been foretold to do that to begin with, was simply logical. "I think I believe you," he said suddenly, making the others falter in their steps. Laje-tal only shot him a grin, shaking her head before moving onward.

"Let's make haste, I'm sure Neloth has already made it to the college, though he is going to be just as stymied as anyone else until we can get the staff. Hopefully nobody at the college will be fool enough to tell him about it."

"Doubt it," Brand-Shei added, shoving past a snowberry bush. "I warned them about the possibility of House Telvanni getting a bit too curious. Brelyna Maryon, one of the students, even agreed with me. I imagine the Maryons are getting quite interested too."

"Oh, they would." She hid the tremor that shook her muscles suddenly, pushing on resolutely. It was only one more hill, she kept telling herself, moving forward and ignoring every little involuntary twitch in her body. It had to go away. It just had to. The repercussions of the magic sickness would have to fade in time to have to endure it again.

* * *

Slitted eyes stared from the corners of the dream, narrowed and filled with disgust. A chilly hiss was heard, a voice coming from one of them. "A hated one..."

Laje-tal spun to face the voice but nothing was there, fading into the ether as quickly as mist before the sunlight. Another voice, different, grumbled low. "Unwelcome, it is." She knew them, as many years as it had been. Members of the Twin Lamps. Other Argonians, ones who knew quite well who she was, fighting to end slavery while she delved deeper and deeper into Telvanni politics. They couldn't know that she was fighting just as hard as they were. They couldn't know how she planned to take everything down by the nails that held it in place.

"Go away, pest." Running was no use here, it never was. They would only catch up to her and tear her apart piece by piece. Instead she shrank inside herself, smaller and smaller, too small for them to see. If only she could push it just a little further, they wouldn't notice. They wouldn't see what she was doing when she pushed into the upper ranks. They couldn't see how she slandered the other Telvanni nobles until they rid themselves of their slaves out of embarrassment. None would see as she became the war hero, the hortator, of the three great houses. No, they wouldn't even watch as she impaled Dagoth Ur with Nerevar's sword. It would be done, and not one would know who had done it.

"We're watching you, scum." The golden mask of an Ordinator loomed in front of her, emotionless black eyes judging her behind the empty face. She was surrounded again, dodging maces and spells as she tried to flee, though she knew it was impossible. Once Ordinators had a scent, they took quite a bit of effort to elude. Suddenly she was in the air, levitating up and away from them, then in the water, breathing in the liquid where they could not. It was dark, so very dark...

"Wake up! Laje-tal, wake up!" Brand-Shei was shaking her, pouring some very cold water in her face. She shook, her eyes slowly opening to look around. What had happened? Aryon came rushing into the camp just then, another bottle full of mountain water ready to try again, but he left it as soon as he saw her awake. Still a bit dazed, she rose slowly, noticing both of them looking at her with a worried frown.

"You were running quite a fever," Aryon said with the slightest hint of panic, all but shoving a restorative potion into her hands. "We were starting to wonder if it would ever break after a few hours."

Instinctively her hand went to her brow, and indeed she was almost as hot as their campfire. Aside from that, though, only a slight touch of weakness was all that was left of her ordeal with that damned eye. Letting him pull her to her feet, she took a look around to get her bearings. The ruins of Labyrinthian were in sight now, reached the night before just a bit too late into the night to continue. Brand-Shei still looked a little worn, but he had volunteered to be the one to go into the college and get more information on this place. That it had come with being in the middle of a magical explosion and a host of abnormal entities had just been poor luck. At least he seemed better now. "Thank you for your help as well. Where is Talvas?"

Brand-Shei gestured to the ruins, a shadowy smudge in the blowing snow. "Taking notes," he said with a touch of amusement. "He said that he might be on our side now, but his curiosity can't wait all day. I told him to get his fill with the outside, because he won't be getting in until I open it with the Arch-Mage's key."

"Hah, and not much longer before he will come marching up here demanding that key. Well, never mind. Go ahead and let him in, but don't go too far. We'll take down the camp." When he hesitated, she came closer to him, frowning as she looked at him harder. "Are you alright?"

He shook his head, breaking out of whatever had frozen him in place. "I think I'm... still a little bothered about the Arch-Mage. He knew I was pretending every time I tried to escape that Thalmor or lied to the other students and teachers. I don't know how he knew it. I told him the real reason I was there. I know I probably shouldn't have, but he didn't seem to think any worse of me for it. He knew about the Telvanni too and agreed I was probably better off for now letting everyone else keep thinking what I was trying to have them think. It's alright. We'll finish whatever is here and retrieve that staff."

With a nod she gave him a reassuring grin, unconsciously quoting an old saying. "What is left undone, that shall be done." Whatever it was that made her say that simply drifted away, a light snort following her slight confusion. "Go on then. You can honor the Arch-Mage by getting the staff, and when we get back to the college, we will see to it that he is buried with his ancestors if it is possible."

Once he was well out of hearing distance and the camp was halfway torn down, though, Aryon gave her an odd look. "What made you think of _The Seven Visions_? That dream of yours? I know you must have been dreaming with that fever raging on like it did."

"I think so. Last night, I had been thinking of someone I hadn't thought of in a long time. I should know better by now than to do that before I sleep."

"Nibani Maesa?"

Shaking her head, she started rolling up the cloak she had been sleeping on. "Eno Romari."

Now he abandoned his half-filled pack, brows furrowed as he recalled the name. "That Temple heretic from the end of times cult?"

She shrugged, not quite sure why she had been thinking of him either. "I had been thinking of the lost prophecies we had found, and how part of it mentioned the Nerevarine was to be Dragon-born. I'm sure that meant to be a foreigner, but what if there was more to it? That got me thinking that Eno had known that the deaths of the Tribunal would lead to the events of the Oblivion crisis, he was right about everything. I wondered just how far back this legend goes, and how many other cultures it might have gone into. I wondered if there might be more to come that I don't yet know about, but someone else does."

"It does sound pretty probable by that logic." Her expression only grew slightly more strained, something that someone unfamiliar with her wouldn't notice at all. "What was it you would say about the future? Don't worry too long about it, you will be there before you know it? It's good advice, but only if you follow it."

"Ah, I know that, but I can't help it. We all want to know what the future holds, even if it isn't a good future. Maybe we think we can then better prepare for it, maybe try to prevent it, or at the least know what will be hitting us as we fall. No, you're right. There's enough to worry about right now as it is. I'm sure if there is more to be heard of my fate, Azura will see to it that I am led on the right path. Let's get down there before those two manage to get tangled in a trap."

Talvas and Brand-Shei hadn't gotten far, though, still in one of the first entry rooms, looking a little bewildered. When they all regrouped, Brand-Shei pointed off into the distance. "You wouldn't believe what we saw when we came in here. Souls of the dead, and it seems like they were acting out the moments before their deaths. This place is cursed."

"I can't say I'm surprised," she said, illuminating the dark chamber with an orb of light. "It did sound just a bit too convenient that the Arch-mage knew all about this place, had that amulet, and that same amulet is the only thing that could unlock the outer door. Something happened here, something he was likely ashamed of, and he locked this place away because of it."

As they delved deeper and deeper into the twists and turns of Labyrinthian, the story of what had once happened here slowly unfolded before their eyes. Undead, including a skeletal dragon, came at them at every turn, reanimated by a force unknown, a mysterious voice speaking to them at times in the dragon tongue. Although Laje-tal had learned a few of the old words of the dov, she only caught scraps until finally the voice spoke in their own tongue. Finally Aryon paused, looking back at the group, his troubled glance looking eerie in the pale glowing light. "A dragon priest, I think. That would explain all of this, including the skeletal dragon back there. Who else could have had such power?"

Talvas held his torch further out into the long chasm, humming agreement. "We started to have trouble with dragon priests on Solstheim after the temple of Miraak was unearthed. Necromancers, all of them. Not to say anything about necromancers, being a conjurer myself. This is just like a few of the things I've seen in their lairs before."

Their notions quickly proved to be very true as they came into a large inner chamber, a bright blue light bursting through two specters and encasing the dragon priest imprisoned there. Laje-tal pointed to the two spirits maintaining the spell, keeping her voice low. "Up there. Brand-Shei, Talvas, you two get up there and banish those spirits. When they are gone, that should release the priest. Get yourselves out of sight and we will take care of that priest."

"What, you just want us to back off?" Talvas frowned, still conjuring a bound dagger. "Can you really say that you can control your magic as you are? You've gotten better, but I wouldn't ask you to handle that thing."

"Am I the Dragonborn or am I not? I'm sure I could handle a dragon priest. Besides, Aryon would help me."

Now Aryon came to her side, firmly moving her to the back of the group. "I'm sorry but Talvas is right. If you want even the slightest hope of going through another ordeal with the eye of Magus, you need to save your strength. We can manage."

She just huffed, taking out a bow to fight from a distance. "Gods Aryon, I swear if I didn't love you so much I'd stab you in your sleep." Ignoring his barely contained laughter she joined Brand-Shei as they crept through the shadows, making their way to the spirits maintaining the barrier as Aryon and Talvas took to the front to face the dragon priest. It was simple enough to get to the top in the confusion, and while Brand-Shei slashed down a spirit with a loaned sword, she took to higher ground and shot the other with a single arrow. Brand-Shei summoned a quick ward to defend against a burst of fire that came her way, following after her as they escaped further up toward the exit of the chamber. Below, Aryon and Talvas were throwing spells every which way as a roar of the dragon priest bellowed around the echoing walls. "I almost forgot those things could shout too."

"I don't think Aryon forgot," Brand-Shei reassured, dousing his torch to avoid drawing attention to them. It was a long wait, lurking there in the dark while sounds of battle raged just outside their small hiding space. Suddenly both Talvas and Aryon came into the tunnel, the former beating a bit of fire from his clothing as he handed over the Staff of Magus.

"Here, Brand-Shei. You're the one the Psijics wanted, right? You better have this."

"Me? I'm not so sure about this..."

Laje-tal took the staff and closed his hands around it, nodding sharply. "If the Psijics said you're to have it, then you should have it. They can see into a future that no other mortals can, and though their visions are limited, they are real. You are the one that needs to use this on the eye and fight Ancano. Why else do you think I've been stuffing you with potions to fortify your skills so you might learn faster? You've learned so much since you left Riften. Ancano is a fool who doesn't know what he is tampering with. Cut him off from the eye and he is left just a fool. I believe you can do it."

"You do?" He looked around at the rest of them, seeing only a strong if grim confidence in each of their gazes. His grip tightened on the staff as he grew more sure of himself. It had been too long since he had known anyone to have such faith in him, and far longer since he had had faith in anyone else. "Thank you. I know we can do this."

* * *

Laje-tal ignored the way her muscles rippled under her skin as a jolt from the eye of Magnus pulsed through the air, focused only on the very angry Dunmer in front of her. Neloth, like everyone else, had been blocked from entry to the college by the swirling maelstrom of winds surrounding the building. All of them had been pushed to the outer bridge, fending off questions and accusations from the local villagers. The combination of the now-destroyed book that was once his and the accompaniment of the apprentice that had also once been his only made what was left of his composure disappear. Brand-Shei kept the Staff of Magus out of sight, sticking to the plan they had come up with on the way as Talvas came forward, steeling himself against Neloth's icy glare.

As expected Neloth tossed the empty shell of his old book at Talvas, ignoring all else in his anger. "What is the meaning of this, Talvas? You dare betray your master to that filthy lizard? Have you forgotten your honor?"

He only crossed his arms, not bothered by his former master's words. "There is no honor in enslaving an entire population to do your bidding. We know about your plan to summon Hermaeus Mora and use the eye of Magnus to bend the wills of all of Skyrim. We won't let you do that."

"How did you... no. No it was you!" He pointed at Laje-tal, charging at her until his finger was pointed directly to her nose. "You were always snooping about! You stole my book and turned my apprentice against me! You destroyed my book, all of my plans!"

Now Talvas blocked the wizard from touching her again, noticing how her hands had started to spark at the merest brush on her person. From the look of things she was about ready to explode with all of the energy flowing around them, enchanted necklace or not. He had to cause a distraction quickly. "I'm the one who took your book. I'm the one who left all on my own to go and find someone who could help me stop you! I didn't know she was the Arch-Magister of the house, I just knew you didn't like her and she was powerful, but I figured out your insane scheme and I don't care what you say about betrayal and honor, it's nothing compared to what you wanted to do!"

The distraction he attempted had little effect on Neloth, since the man only glared at the Argonian harder, his eyes mere slits. "I should have known better than to leave you alive. I wanted to kill you from the very beginning but none of us could even touch you! Bah, Helseth hired the whole damned Dark Brotherhood and even he couldn't kill you! You couldn't even die of age, not even after more than two hundred years because you are the damned Nerevarine!"

Laje-tal knew there was no avoiding this. Not now. She turned to Brand-Shei, her words coming out in Jel. Neloth would never have stooped to actually learning her language. "Take the staff and go underground through the midden. Get to the eye and stop Ancano while we take care of this."

He was already on the edge of the group but he hesitated, knowing that once the magic started to fly, she would be at the mercy of fate. Aryon made up his mind for him, giving a determined nod. "Theilul!" Go! While the others guarded his escape, escape he did, down the steep set of ledges and bare handholds, down the icy scraps of stone and toward the outer entrance to the midden.

Neloth looked Aryon over with open disgust. "By the gods, you even learned some of that marsh tongue... and what in Oblivion did you tell that young man? I've certainly never seen him before, and I would swear I know everyone in the house. Where did he-"

"Never mind that," Aryon said sharply, tearing the focus away from Brand-Shei. "You have been a thorn in my side for far too long. Your fight is with me."

"I'm not here for you, you s'wit. I'm here for the lizard and the eye, preferably in that order. I knew that if I waited long enough you two would get curious about the eye and see for yourself what it was like. Oh yes, I had hoped you would come here, and so you did. If you interfere I will not hesitate to kill you, Aryon, or you either, Talvas! When you die even your ancestors won't have you, they would cast you into the void for such a disgrace! "

Talvas bristled at the insult, starting toward the man, almost forgetting the plan. "How dare you!"

Luckily Laje-tal had kept her head, though she too was clearly taken back by his words. "Don't. We need to remember what we are here for."

With a huff Neloth crossed his arms, goading them further. "Taking orders, are you? From her? Oh that is just rich. Taking orders from a former slave! Yes, I found about that one, I found out quite a bit you wouldn't like me to know, oh mighty Arch-Magister. I know about you and the Twin Lamps, I know now that you really were trying to destroy House Telvanni from the inside by taking our slaves!" All around their group, the handful of villagers left in Winterhold had been gathering, and finally he found it impossible to avoid their uneasy looks. "What are you all staring at?"

It was all the distraction that was needed. "Wuld!" Her shouts were unaffected by the magic-restraining necklace she wore, and in a flash she was well behind Neloth on the bridge, luring him away with a taunting gesture of her sword. "This slave became your master, Neloth! I did what no other Argonian dared to do, and I succeeded! Don't be mad that I succeeded where you failed!" As hoped, the storm raging around the college had started to subside just in time for Neloth to chase after her in his focused anger, not at all noticing Talvas and Aryon clearing all of the villagers from the immediate area. Talvas even summoned a powerful storm atronach to guard the foot of the bridge, discouraging all but the most inquisitive. At that moment she also gained just enough energy to shout again, bursting into the courtyard of the college, poised almost directly in the center.

"You think to lure me in here, do you?" His hands glowed bright with surges of sharp lightning, the jolts flickering as even he struggled against the uneven energies in the air. "Fewer distractions, I would say! You've given me quite an advantage!"

A last moment of hesitation lingered in her stance, hoping to simply keep him occupied long enough for Brand-Shei to do whatever it was he needed to do with the eye. Even after all of this time, all of the things that had happened between them, she had still respected Neloth for being a highly accomplished enchanter and researcher. "I'll allow you one last chance to go back and we'll forget we said anything here. Go back to Solstheim."

He just laughed, the magic in his hands growing dangerously large. "Not a chance. I've known about the eye of Magus for longer than you've even been alive and I've been searching all of Tamriel for it! Go back to Solstheim? Hah! I will send you back in pieces, and mount your head on a plaque!"

Bracing her back talons against the smoothed cracks between the stone floor squares, preparing for the possibility of a sudden strike, she met his glare with her own. "I'd rather you didn't force me to kill you." Aryon and Talvas now blocked the exit to the bridge, lingering at the edge to see what would happen next. This was the part they planned little for, knowing how unpredictable it would be.

"Kill me? Who said anything about killing me? You were lucky with Gothren, the only reason that old fool hadn't died before then was because none of us wanted to waste the effort. He was old and weak, that was no large triumph for you! Hah, maybe Aryon helped you! Maybe you caught him in his sleep for all we know! Look at you, you can hardly bring any light to your magic right now! No, I'm ready for you and I formally challenge you for your title!"

With a sigh she clenched her hand around the magic-suppressing amulet at her neck, sparing a glance at her comrades, knowing they had to stay out of the way. Her glance lingered for a moment on Talvas, but he only nodded in confirmation. There was no sense in drawing this out any longer. "Yet again you've forced my hand then, Neloth. I suppose now is as good a time as any to let you in on a little secret I've kept from you all these years." Magic had welled so tensely within her that she hesitated in removing the amulet, not knowing how her body might handle channeling so much magic after the last time. Finally the amulet came off, the mana surge suddenly flowing over her like a torrential waterfall. She only took a second to register the slight panic on his face, the blue surge of magic radiating from her skin. "After all you've done to try to collect the magic around you, I've been doing it since the day I hatched."

"You... you're a channel!" His expression warred between absolutely irate and reluctantly impressed. Suddenly every question he had been asking himself about her from the very beginning was more or less answered. Not once had anyone ever seen her use any staff but the Staff of Magus, and never a scroll nor any minor enchantments. Every spell she cast had been large and loud to the point where most called her a show-off, but now it was clear that she did it because she couldn't help it. She was just too powerful to control herself back then.

She spared a nod, keeping an eye just beyond where he stood. Aryon and Talvas couldn't interfere now that Neloth issued a challenge against her title, but that might not stop him from trying to harm them. Reflexively backing up in preparation, she bumped the rim of the great stone circle that held a large amount of focusing plasma, bright blue and surging a little itself. All she wanted to do was steady herself a little as she reached behind, but the moment her left hand met the rim, the focusing plasma burst a streaming jet high into the sky, reacting to her energy violently. Her hand felt like it was burning as she jerked it away, her ring glowing hotly as it resonated with an odd sound.

Instead of subsiding, the glow in her ring only grew, and she looked at it with a touch of worry. "What? Oh no, Nerevar, this isn't a good time for that!" There was no use in fighting it, though, and she knew it. Slowly her hand grew red, and she met Aryon's gaze across the courtyard, jaw clenching as she braced against the inevitable. They had planned for this possibility, but this would throw everything out of balance.

"Damn!" Aryon roughly grabbed Talvas by the arm, rushing them both into the hall of attainment and up the stairs. As they rushed up toward the top of the tower and onto the roof, he pointed in the direction of the main hall. "We have to get out of range. I had hoped this wouldn't happen, but all we can do now is stay out of this."

Talvas did follow after him, but he was left confused while below, a red gold fire swirled around Laje-tal, her eyes seeming to glow. "What's going on?"

"Once in a while in battle, she becomes more like Nerevar than herself. His soul is still trapped in her, and sometimes he has a bit of mind of his own. To make it short, there is no plan now. There is no telling what might happen from here. You'd better stay out here and make sure none of the locals get too close. That atronach of yours might not last long enough. If you see any people get near, throw a fireball near them, they will stay out of it if they are wise."

"What about you?"

"I'll try to help with Ancano if I can, though I don't know how much help I might be. If Brand-Shei has been foreseen to do this anyway, I might not be needed at all. Either way, we can't interfere in a formal challenge and I don't know about you, but I'm not content to just stand about and watch. Think you can keep the noses of those guards out of this?"

Talvas grinned, his hands glowing brightly with fire. "If I can't, I'm a sorry apprentice! Go on, I'll make sure your wife doesn't have anyone outside the college to worry about!"

"Good!" Aryon didn't miss the fact that the other didn't even hesitate when he called Laje-tal his wife. He had no doubt the young man could now be trusted with guarding her, with keeping the villagers and guards safely away, and be trusted to do it on his own. "I will leave you to it."

Once Aryon scaled the side of the building to get into the hall of the elements, Talvas launched a warning shot of fire near the bridge as someone approached the outer edge. Oh but those Nords were a curious sort! Below in the courtyard, the magic had finally started to fly, and with only a flick of her hand, the possessed Argonian summoned an entire rain of fireballs to fall upon the ice and snow, melting both in an instant. Hot and cold met in a flurry of steam, obscuring her for a moment as she prepared another large spell. Her eyes seemed to glow, and a shimmer of spectral armor outlined her frame. Was that really the reincarnated soul of Nerevar? It may well have been, since out of nowhere her battle style altered. Instead of relying mainly on spells, she drew her long daedric sword, the thing glowing with a phantom arc of golden light.

In theory, he knew that the Argonian did just as well with sword as spell, being a battlemage, but to see it like this was another thing entirely. Of course, Neloth was hardly one to neglect his own sword skills and he did actually have far more overall experience than any of them. He was quite possibly the oldest person in all of Tamriel right now, and it showed as he met blow for blow in a flurry of strikes. Avoiding a sharp jab, Laje-tal shouted at the ground, gaining enough force to jump back toward the central statue, using the momentum to leap away from it to counter the strike. Her agility was enough to miss the blows that followed, but her own slashes met little but fabric.

Taking a long look at the blatant shift in her style, Neloth changed his own ever so slightly. "Hmph. Shade of Nerevar, indeed. Always playing around with those Dwemer and making foolish alliances. Look where that got you! The only useful thing you ever did was get rid of those Nords." A long moment passed, the fight only intensifying. "Nothing to say for yourself?"

A strong wind cast around her in a sudden burst, whipping the flames she spun in a wild torrent as he grew just a bit too close to her. It threw him back toward one of the thick stone walls, stunning him briefly. She followed with another burst of speed from her overpowered shout, the overwhelming pulsations of energy shoving out of her, making her overshoot her actual target. A slight confusion drifted through her link with what little she could sense of Nerevar, and it seemed even he wasn't quite ready for such a thing. No, they needed to bring this fight closer, needed to change the field.

Neloth summoned a frost atronach, glaring at her glowing form with frustration. "To see the mighty war hero Nerevar reduced to this! When are you going to fight seriously?"

She didn't answer, only drew a small seed from a side pocket, holding it before her almost carelessly. It was as if she didn't quite see him, didn't know exactly what was happening, and yet she was certainly countering whatever he threw at her. Roots suddenly exploded from the seed, massive and thick as they twisted and arched around her. One morphed into a crooked arch, the rest changing the battlefield entirely. The speed at which the plant grew was too fast to follow, growing and growing as she fed more and more energy into it, using the mess to narrow Neloth's field of movement. He was forced to fight in narrow slashes, his magic not quite enough to burn away the errant roots and still have enough energy to actually fight. As much as he hated to admit it, this was a war of attrition, and his magic was limited.

An explosion rocked the inside of the college, coming from the hall of the elements. Before any of them knew what exactly had happened, Laje-tal suddenly fell to the ground, overcome by the power forcing itself into her. What was left of Nerevar's influence broke, leaving her dazed and momentarily lost. Neloth seized the opportunity, catching her as she tried to dodge, slicing a deep gash into her right arm. The heavy sword in her hand dropped, the pain too great to keep it up any longer. He moved to take advantage of this as well but she spun, her tail tripping him just long enough to grab Keening with her left hand, stabbing wherever she might hit. She didn't mean for it to go straight into his heart.

A whole new surge of chaotic waves of magic pulsed through the college grounds, and surely even those without any magic at all could feel it. Talvas didn't hesitate, making his way to the courtyard and dragging Laje-tal to her feet. He didn't pause to look at his dying former master, all he could think of now was what in Oblivion was happening inside that college. Laje-tal was barely conscious, but they both saw Brand-Shei wielding the Staff of Magus against the open spinning eye, draining its power. It wasn't long before Ancano too met the ground in death, but now the eye was very unstable. She slowly staggered to her feet, voice barely loud enough to be heard. "Wait for the Psijics. They'll know what to do."

Brand-Shei ran to her, Aryon quickly following after. The latter caught her as she fell, easing her to the floor. Her hands were raw and bleeding with all of the magic she had unleashed, chest heaving with the effort it took just to keep breathing. Luckily four Psijics soon appeared in the room, speaking to Brand-Shei briefly. They would take the eye with them, keeping it safe or perhaps sealing it once more. One of the Psijics, Quaranir, paused as the others turned away, looking at Laje-tal with great concern. "She has been more than a little tainted by the power from the eye. Let me take a look at her." None of the others disagreed, letting him do what he would. He inspected her hands, her face, her skin. A small glow of restoration magic flowed through his hands and though he did look worried, he also seemed a bit amused. "Hello again, Nerevarine. I'm not much of a healer, and this is a serious matter. I don't know enough about Argonians to do a proper assessment of this, but if you know a healer... no, two. A master healer would be best. Right now the absence of the eye will have to do." He looked back where the others were ready to send the eye away, and he moved to rejoin them. "We will remove it at once. Farewell."

As soon as the Psijics encircled the eye, Brand-Shei scrambled to his feet, muttering something about the master healer of the college, and was out the door before they knew it. In a surge of light the four mystics spirited the eye of Magus away, gone in a flash just as quickly as they had entered. Soon a few of the other college masters ran into the room, all talking about the sudden disappearance of the eye. After a moment Brand-Shei returned, a somewhat bedraggled woman following after him. She quickly saw what the problem was, shooing the others away from Laje-tal. "Hah, I knew this day would come! See? I told you restoration was a valid school of magic! I told all of you but no! Everyone go laugh at Colette, she doesn't know anything about anything!"

With an insistent clearing of his throat, Brand-Shei got her attention. "You know I've never doubted your abilities, Colette, but I think now might be more the time to show than tell. After all, seeing it happen is the best way to believe it."

She indulgently patted his arm, humoring him with a smile. "That's right, that's right!" After she actually looked at her patient, though, she frowned. "Oh, dear. You know, I've worked on many sorts of folk, including J'zargo over there, but I've hardly even seen an Argonian, let alone heal one. The ones in Windhelm don't get to leave much, and I don't get down there either. Well, I am a healer still! I'll try, I surely will! Then you will all see I know what's what!" To her credit she summoned a great deal of restorative power, enough to impress even Faralda, but after only moments she stopped, her face grim. "This is more than magic sickness, it's magic poisoning. The raw magic in her blood right now is... how do I explain it? It's like it suffocates her very blood itself! Something is cutting off a magical connection inside her."

Brand-Shei swore, having an idea what might be happening. "It's cutting off her connection to the Hist. Without it, she will die for sure. An Argonian might live a day or two without the Hist, but not like this. If we had some Hist sap, that might just be enough to reconnect her to it. I don't know what else we could try, but I don't think we have any of that even here in the college."

"I'd bet Enthir would know all about it, now wouldn't you, Enthir?"

The Bosmer in question jumped at the mention of his name, looking around the group of people with a touch of panic. "What? I don't know what you mean to imply by that, Colette."

"Oh please! Everyone knows what you do around here! Now do you have any or don't you?"

"Of course not!" Seeing her frown darken at that, he backed away slightly. "Well why would I? Nobody needs that stuff around here! You know, though, I think I did get a request from Windhelm to send some down to the Argonians there at the docks. Yeah, it was a couple months ago, one of them also requested some skoo- I mean uh some scrib jerky. Apparently a whole bottle can last for years, I'll bet they would still have some left if they're willing to share it."

Aryon nodded, already preparing to leave. "We know the Argonians down there, so it's worth a try."

Below Laje-tal stirred slightly, no longer in sheer agony just breathing, revived a little by what healing could be done. "Have to give... burial."

"Ah, that's right." He looked around at all of the mages gathered there, spotting just the Dunmer he had hoped to see. Pointing at her, he motioned her over. "Brelyna Maryon, right? Your colleague here told me a bit about you. A relative of Felen Maryon?"

The woman looked understandably hesitant, knowing the amount of pressure she was already under with her house, but she came forward anyway, nodding. "That's right. I'm actually his niece. Did you know him? Please don't tell them anything about this."

"Nothing personal, but I know better than to tell the Maryons anything of actual interest. Ah, forgive me, I'm Master Aryon, also of the Telvanni. I'm afraid Master Neloth has been killed as a result of the battle out in the courtyard. I'd see to it myself that he was burned properly if I could, but if we don't get the Dragonborn here some treatment soon, she might die."

"M-Master Aryon? That's impossible!" She shot a glance at Brand-Shei with a great amount of uncertainty, but he only nodded a confirmation. "That can't be true! Everyone said you died in the Oblivion crisis!"

He just sighed, picking up Laje-tal carefully, her waning condition and rising temperature making him a bit short with Brelyna. "Can you see to it that he's buried? We have to leave here right now."

"I... well, yes I suppose, but... wait, you killed Master Neloth? How could you do such a thing? He-"

"He issued a formal challenge. You know as well as I do that there was no other option."

"Please, Brelyna." Now Brand-Shei blocked her from stopping the others, shaking his head. "There isn't much time to explain, and I know this is going to be hard to explain to the other Telvanni, but just tell them the truth, that he died honorably in battle. Can you do it?"

She bit her lip absently, arms crossed over her small frame. "I'll see to it, but tell me what happened when you come back. I'll see if anyone knows if there is a family tomb he belongs to."

"Thank you." He would have said more but Laje-tal suddenly started gasping, her throat closing as her body fought the magic in her blood. Taking a look at her eyes and brow, he frowned as both were starting to look dangerously pale. "Let's get her to Windhelm right away. I just hope the Argonians will be able to do something more for her than I can."

At the head of their party now, Aryon wrapped a spare cloak around his shuddering wife, a sharply determined look on his face. "Right, and if that fool Ulfric tries to stop us, I'll kill him myself."


	12. Chapter 12

Never had a dream felt so very real. Everything here could be touched, smells drifted through the air, and yet it held the haze of a dream world, things outside of her vision blurred and shadowed. A familiar face entered her sight, though how she knew him without the golden mask was uncertain. It was Voryn Dagoth, and though he said nothing, she knew what he wanted to say. As she reached out to gesture, her hand wasn't hers, a dusky gold in color and elven. She had agreed to something, though she hadn't spoken.

It was her, but it wasn't, that was suddenly prone on the ground, desiring, seeking something, and three faces looked away in ignorance. They hid behind their golden masks, all three of them, but the tattoos on the woman were ones she knew very well. Almalexia, and the others must have been the rest of the Tribunal. She felt herself asking them for something, pleading they come to their senses, though no noise came out in the dream world. Though they seemed to agree on the surface, she knew it was a lie. There was no telling them herself, though; she was a captive audience here. She couldn't move, and neither could her body, twisted with pain as it was. A heavy, acrid smell filled the air, candles lit but not smelling of herbs. The faces turned away entirely, the fate of their old comrade as dust.

_You've come a long way to be here with me._ She heard but didn't quite hear. Struggling against invisible bonds as if to try and see who it was that spoke, the world grew dark. _You have a strong will, but there is no need to be afraid._ A mirror, showing a golden face, male and so strangely familiar. He was like an Altmer, but changed somehow. A Chimer. _That's right. _Something about the cast of his face, the tilt of his mouth, all of it felt so very much like herself, though they were very different indeed. _We are different, but we are one. Maybe you don't understand._

At once they were underground in a vast city, entirely beneath a mountain and yet feeling open rather than stifling. The architecture was unmistakable, after seeing so many ruins just like this in her travels. They were in a Dwemer city, before the disappearance, when everything and everyone was just as fresh as any city now. Before, the only Dwemer she had ever known was the terribly misshapen, corprus infected Yagrum, languishing in Divayth Fyr's Corprusarium. These people, not exactly dwarves as their name implied, stood strong and almost as tall as other elves. _Glorious, but cursed. If I had but known that it was only Kagrenac, not my dear friend, who was the one to be feared, perhaps it wouldn't have come to this._

Now she felt herself fade slightly in the revelation. Nerevar? It couldn't be anyone else, to say things like that. She couldn't speak, but he knew her thoughts. _As I said, you have come far. I have been watching, and you are very deep in yourself to find me here. Perhaps it was an after-effect of all that magic, but it was about time that you came to this place. Come._ Not that she had much of a choice. His steps were long and filled with strength, every bit the fine warrior. As they continued into the city, however, the stone, metal and steam strangely made her ache for the sun and trees. _Have you not seen many like this before? We are far from the forest, Argonian, but I must take you farther._

Any misgivings about going deeper than they already had were slowly drifting away as they reached a bustling marketplace, another elven man soon joining them. _Alandro Sul. I know the ashlanders told you of him._ As interesting as it was to see the great Dwemer city in its prime, she was instead filled with questions, all of them brimming over in a wellspring of confusion. _I will answer you soon. I want you to learn more than just what you seek to know, and I must show you now._ A flash was all that happened as they spirited somewhere else, looking upon a Dwemer blacksmith hammering away at a blade. Another, a great, resplendent person, looked down at the blade with a critical eye. When he saw Nerevar, though, his warm smile grew as he greeted them with a hearty handshake.

Now she saw what he meant her to see. It was King Dumac, overseeing the making of Hopesfire and Trueflame. The swords were unimportant, the meaning behind them all that mattered. A fondness drifted over their link, feeling the strong kinship that Nerevar felt for the king. _I regret so much. I regret blaming him for what the others did without his knowledge. I will never know what he may have done had he learned about their artificial god, but I can't help but think he might have not liked it much either. I couldn't, though. The others were so convincing, and Azura... I couldn't ignore her commands._ Mentally turning at his regrets, she thought maybe there was no right answer. All of this had happened, and there was nothing that could be done about it now. _I suppose you are right. The past cannot be changed. We changed the future, and it had to be enough._

A beautiful stone mosaic inlaid in the floor, a pristine detailed tapestry, several golden and shining works on the table. It was an age of prosperity, learning and development. Some of the mathematical figures went beyond even her own reckoning and though she didn't understand them, she still took note of what she could. _Always a Telvanni, eh Arch-Magister? Don't take example from them, they are better left forgotten._ She reluctantly looked away from the vast marvels, seeing instead what he was gravitating toward. A Dwemer child of all things, reaching up toward a small doll on a table. He moved to pick up the toy, bending to give it to the wide-eyed girl. _You have always been so closely focused on how they died, but can you not marvel at how they lived?_

They were in Azura's presence, communing with her as he often did, and she held a very special smile for him alone. Remembering how he had been said to have a close connection to the Daedric prince, she mentally agreed. Right. Though Azura's guidance wasn't a constant in their world, her wisdom was still best to listen to when she decided to give it. Laje-tal knew that quite well, being one of the many who received guidance to leave Vvardenfell. _Even when the Dwemer saw her for themselves, they couldn't believe, but why? There is no sense in creating a god of a heart and machines, how is that any more real than this? Why do you still have those profane books, why did you not destroy Sunder and Keening? Their only use now is to remind us of great pain and suffering._

A small sense of guilt came over her, knowing he was right. Slowly, a mild reassurance eased over their link. _No, I understand your curiosity, but perhaps if I sate it, you will leave well enough alone. We must act quickly though. Your friends are going to find you help before we know it, and I'm sure what they plan will take you out of here quite abruptly. You want to know why the Dwemer disappeared? How? Don't you know how by now? Why do you think you were told to strike the heart only five times?_ She understood, but not quite. Her instructions had simply been very exact, and she was looking to destroy the heart, not use it. _That's right. Five times, and then only wait, not strike it again. In his desperation, Kagrenac struck it a sixth time. He thought it wasn't working, but even he did not yet know exactly how his machination worked. Those that did not turn to dust simply... vanished._

Now she saw his own recollection of the event, playing out exactly as he said. The battle was long and filled with an intense bitterness, the strength of a former friendship turned into just as great a hatred. The sixth strike hit, and the world was a blur. Some were incinerated on the spot, and connected in their alien link to each other, the curse shot from one to the next, leaving only ash and pieces of the armor they wore. Others left nothing behind at all, only gone in that flash to a place unknown. _How did it choose who to burn and who to take away? I don't know that, but I know Kagrenac was one turned to ash. Perhaps the ones who did not follow his ways were just taken away from this world? I can't answer that for you, I know, but don't worry about them. You need to understand my point._

She did understand, though she fought her curiosity harder than ever. Now she had a chance to truly know some of the points of history that had been all but lost, seen now through the eyes of someone who lived it! A small chuckle resonated inside her. _You remind me very much of Sotha Sil. Whenever someone asked him why he would say well, why not? It was that why not that made him and the rest of the Tribunal turn away from Azura, Laje-tal. I know you are better than that, that you try to think of things more clearly before doing them, but you will still be fighting that nature. You are not a Dunmer, but I know you understand quite intimately that Azura and the other Daedra are very much a part of our lives, whether they seek to help or harm. I know if you consulted her, she too would ask you to be rid of those things._

A small part of her agreed, knowing that this profane knowledge had no purpose in the current world. As much as she wanted to know, wanted to discover, there was nothing different to be found except questions better left unanswered and couldn't be answered. Despite this, she had other sorts of questions, not sure how to ask them. _I am within you. I know all of the things you have wondered about me, but I have been unable to reach you all the way out there in the tangible world. Why do I sometimes take over you in battle? I don't know. Maybe I can't help my craving for the world. Maybe it's true that Magnus will inhabit a powerful mage at times. Maybe there isn't anything at all, and I just rise at random._

The greatest question she had ever had, though, rose to the forefront of both their minds. Why me? _Ah, now that I can answer. As I said, you have a strong will. You are the very essence of overcoming adversity, and when Azura took me to you, I knew right away that this was the best choice. Was I unsettled that you were an Argonian? At first, but I had been a friend to my enemies the Dwemer for such a long time, and I couldn't forget how I had overlooked our differences to find what was the same. You were also a slave, Laje-tal, and I suffered with you. I very quickly understood just how wrong my initial feelings were. Still, you survived, and survived very well in those circumstances. Though you do very much fit Sotha Sil, you also reminded me of myself. You were the best fit for me, but sometimes I wonder if you are resentful of being the Nerevarine._

In truth, there had been times before when she wondered what her life would have been like without Nerevar, without being the Nerevarine, but she couldn't imagine much beyond just going on being the Arch-Magister of House Telvanni. She still would have been there with Aryon, still would have remained by his side. _No, you wouldn't. If you had been unable to fulfill the prophecies, you would now be dead. You fit them closely enough to try, remember? Remember also the cavern of the incarnate, how the spirits there were not the ones? I know in some ways you wonder what a normal life might have been like, but you wouldn't have had one. You were still born under a certain sign to uncertain parents, you were still taken by the Imperials to Vvardenfell. You still would have tried in your curiosity._

She knew he was right. As far as she had been able to get, she would always push it farther, see just how far she could get still. Just as Aryon had always reassured her, she remembered that yes, she had been given both a great gift and a great curse, and had used it for the greater good of the Dunmer people. She had returned them to the old path of the Velothi people, and saved many from the great eruption by reminding them to look to Azura, not false gods. _Your husband is correct. He has also just found what you need to leave this place. I will still be here, though, should you ever happen to come so close to death again. _He sounded somewhat amused when he said that, seeming to look off into the distance though she saw nothing. _So. Any last thoughts before you leave here?_

With a slight chagrin and a touch of her own humor, she wondered what he thought of her being the main character in a tasteless book. A sharp, clear laugh came from his consciousness, a sudden powerful burst of connection flowing between them. She felt his joy and sorrow both, overcoming her in the intensity of the emotions. _I know you will keep doing well, Laje-tal. Consult with Azura. Know her wisdom. You have a good husband, though he is also far too curious. You have made a great many good friends for yourself, and you will take care of them just as they care for you. I do hope that will be well enough for you. It's time to wake up._

Something ancient and heavy shot through her veins, a pull she hadn't felt since the Oblivion Crisis jerking her back to herself. The Hist was there in her, finding her even in her deepest subconscious wanderings, violently forcing her to the forefront of her mind. Just like that she woke, laying on a bed in the low lit Argonian Assemblage in Windhelm. Four Argonians looked at her with concern, along with Aryon and the others, but she couldn't look at them just yet. Whatever she had been given was doing terrible things to her insides, and she found herself suddenly heaving sickly into a thankfully close bucket.

She felt Aryon behind her, a hand on her shoulder, but she shook her head, her voice sounding strange after speaking in a much more efficient fashion with Nerevar. "I'm alright. I think." The last of a dark, sticky substance made its way into the bucket and she turned away from him, suddenly a little embarrassed to disgrace herself like this in front of so many people.

His hand only grew firmer when she drew away, and he pulled her around in a sudden embrace. "You're alright, that's all that matters." To her surprise he was shaking as he held on to her, and she could have sworn she saw a hint of despair in his eyes before he hid it. He then took her face in his hands, looking her over. "Where have you been?"

To be honest, she didn't exactly know, and yet in a way she did. The strange ways of where she had gone to were still fresh in her mind, but she shook them off. "I'm not sure even I believe where I was," she said with a grin. Now she looked at the others in the room, all relieved but still with a very grim cast about them. "What's wrong? Was I really that far away?"

"Laje-tal, it... you were lost for the past five days."

Her eyes widened, taking the information in. The absence from the world had felt so brief, so very rushed, but it had lasted for days? From the group Shahvee detached herself from the other Argonians, smiling and forcing her to sit on the edge of the vacated bed. "Yes, you were as pale as the flagstones outside! You had us all worried sick, but the important thing is you are alright. Your friends told me that you were losing yourself in your magic, and I'll admit I keep a small bottle of Hist sap around just in case any of us need it. Ah, we kept giving you a taste every so often but you were still very lost there for a while. Finally I said well, better just have you swallow some, though we all saw what that usually does. Now you look like hardly a thing happened at all!"

Sure enough, her body had been all but completely restored, and although she felt tired and sore from the ordeal, she wasn't in any great pain except for where she had been slashed deeply in the arm. Her breathing came easily, her mind clear and seeing everything around her without the slightest hint of weakened haze. As intriguing as that was, something else entirely suddenly came to mind. "What happened to Neloth?"

Aryon laughed lightly, moving to sit on the bed across from hers, back to the door. "On the fringe of death and here you are thinking about Neloth! Brelyna Maryon has stayed here in town the past couple nights, she's been waiting to hear your side of what happened. I haven't told her much and she's been impatient, but we wanted to wait and see whether... It's close to lunch time, so she should be here soon. Neloth was cremated and returned to Morrowind. His death has... unsettled the Telvanni nobles, of course, but he has been put in a proper resting place."

"Good, though I bet they are just twisting in their chairs to know what happened!" She quickly sobered, though, her gaze downcast. "I didn't mean to kill him, it just... happened. I only wanted to get in a crucial hit, maybe hurt him enough to make him give up, but my blade landed right in his heart. Oh, what have I done..."

Talvas had been quiet in the corner until now, still uncomfortable in the presence of so many Argonians, but he hadn't left. He slowly came a bit closer, a grim frown on his face. "I don't think he would have given up no matter how much happened. You did what you had to do and if nothing else, you finished him quickly. What a fight! You both gave each other a good battle, everyone at the college is talking about it!"

Brelyna had just entered the room, looking a little irritated but also glad to see that everyone was alright. "Well we would be talking about it more if we had actually seen most of it. You're Laje-tal, right?" Once the Argonian nodded, she took a seat at a nearby table, turning the chair backwards to sit and face the group. A fairly clear conflict was going on behind her troubled eyes, but at the same time she seemed willing to hear what needed to be said. "Well, you must be pretty special to have fought him and also to know Master Aryon. Just who are you, anyway?"

In another corner the other three Argonian men were also looking on in keen interest, with varying expressions. One scowled, and she remembered him as Neetranza. Another just looked curious, and the last seemed to not quite be all present, jittery and impatient. He must have been the one to receive the... scrib jerky. Never before had she ever seen such a strange and large collection of Dunmer and Argonians in one room without someone drawing a sword. "If you want the complete story, I'd suggest you have a whole day to spare. I'll make it as short as I can. Aryon is my husband." Ignoring Brelyna's very blatant disbelief, she went on. "I was born in Morrowind at the end of the Arnesian war, and was sent to Vvardenfell to fulfill the Nerevarine prophecies. I did. At the same time I was in House Telvanni, and I became the Arch-Magister after challenging the former one to a duel. That is how I knew Neloth. We fought the daedra there during the Oblivion Crisis, and came to Skyrim before the Red Year. You probably have heard the rest."

"This is ridiculous!" The Dunmer woman grabbed a chunk of bread from the table, torn between amused and annoyed. "The Nerevarine? Oh gods, they told me you had been poisoned by the Eye of Magus but it must have gone to your head too!"

"You asked. Take a look at my ring, at the corprus scarring on my neck, I don't care. If you want to hear about the fight, I'll tell you, but forgive me if I've grown a bit tired of explaining myself."

Talvas joined Brelyna at the table, nodding in agreement. "You have to admit it fits, don't you? In every history book we have studied, didn't you ever notice that the Arch-Magister's name had been removed from that time? It was always blocked out with ink or burned away. Nobody wanted to admit that it had been an Argonian. It's the same thing whenever the Nerevarine is named in our books. I heard Master Neloth myself when he called her the Nerevarine, and so did everyone else out there in that town."

Suddenly Neetranza grumbled, not liking this one bit. "An Argonian a Telvanni? I knew there was something not right about you. Don't you know what they did to us for centuries? Are you even one of us?"

Laje-tal only sighed, knowing these questions would happen. Everywhere she went, no matter who she talked to, it always happened. "I joined House Telvanni because it suited what I needed to do. Later, I stayed because I wanted to make it a better place. Aryon wanted to do the same, and we worked together to change things for the better. In the short time before the Oblivion Crisis, it was almost there. We came very close to how we wanted it to become, but it didn't work out in the end." Keening was still there in her belt where she had sheathed it, and she took it out, looking at the dried blood still on it. "Of course I hated going down to the docks in Sadrith Mora, every day passing the slave market, knowing there was no hope of rescuing them. The only way I could help them was to take over the house myself, to set an example of what a former slave could do with themselves. I knew what that life was like, and I wanted to end it."

Now Brand-Shei, looking very troubled, came to sit across from Brelyna, looking the other Dunmer in the eye somberly. "Brelyna, I... haven't been entirely honest with you."

She understandably looked worried and a little hurt, giving him an odd glance. "Brandyl, what are you talking about?"

"My name is Brand-Shei. I really am from House Telvanni, but I was raised by Argonians in Black Marsh. I came to the college because I was worried that Master Neloth might find out about me and make me join the other Telvanni in Morrowind. I think you of all people understand why I didn't want that to happen." At her slight nod, looking at least open to hearing him out, he felt a little relieved. "I came up from Riften, and Laje-tal and Aryon warned me about Neloth so I could decide what I wanted to do. I know we all found her story hard to believe, but so are so many other things about this world that we can't explain."

Of course Neetranza had to ruin the moment with his skepticism. "You are both full of lies! Why would any Argonian save a Telvanni? You're not from the marsh!"

He huffed a small sigh, having known there would be trouble with Neetranza from the beginning. "I lived in the marsh near Blackrose until about eighty years ago when I finally decided to set off on my own. If you need actual proof, I don't have any but my own memories of being there."

Neetranza muttered something long and profane back in Jel, Laje-tal winced and Brand-Shei paled. The other Argonian man next to him roughly cuffed him on the back of the head, hissing lightly. "Don't say things like that. It's just that kind of thing that makes us look like the beasts everyone thinks we are!"

In the silence Laje-tal barely reined in her anger, glaring at Neetranza openly. "How dare you. How dare you say something like that. Well. You want to see it, then? Fine." Tugging up the back of her shirt she lifted it high enough for the man to see the distinct criss-cross of scars that laced her whole back. They were old, of course, but still very clear. "I'm sure you know what those are." Giving Aryon a very apologetic look, she saw the realization and slight mortification in his glance. Now he knew that she had lied about these being from battles.

"Peh, how do we know you weren't beaten by something else?"

The very jittery Argonian, who for all the world didn't even seem to realize where he was, shakily pointed to one very oddly shaped scar. "Not that one, though. Oh no, I remember an elder showing me one just like that when I was a youngling. Got it in the mines, he said, from a very hot chain flail. Only the old Dunmer-run mines used that atrocity."

Now Shahvee shooed Neetranza away, giving her own indignant look. "Go, if you can't believe even him. He's the eldest among us, and you know quite well he knew many former slaves. No, never mind, just get out of here. Don't you have some work you need to pretend to do?"

The man grumbled but made no further comment and left, leaving the room already feeling less oppressive. A very curious Brelyna, though, had been looking at the marks and scars herself, and looked at Laje-tal with a bit more sympathy as the Argonian put her clothing back into place. "Gods, is that really what they used to do to slaves back then? It's... horrible. I mean I knew in theory, but..."

Laje-tal nodded. "To see it, to live it, is a different thing. No, mine aren't half as bad as some of the older slaves I knew. I got the better half of it, actually. Shouldn't beat the young ones too much, after all, they die a lot quicker from the more severe injuries. They had to survive until they became adults, when they could finally do the hardest work, and the young ones were always cheap because of that. Eight years at the orphanage, four at the mines. I sold for fifty drakes."

"That's insane. I wonder if my uncle had kept any slaves back on Vvardenfell."

"Oh no, he wouldn't have, at least not any of his own. If he did, it might have just been one for his household. He lived in Tel Branora, most in the strongholds just used the slaves that were already there. Oh don't make that face, of all the jobs a slave could do, being of the household was the best of all. The plantations were the worst, the mines a close second. No, he used Therana's slaves, but hers were a bit of an exception. She was insane, and they were quite miserable. Egg miners, mining eggs for her to just demand more. I knew Felen Maryon, though. He was the only one in the whole of the island who was competent enough to teach someone how to summon winged twilights, but gods was he a bore to talk to."

Now she laughed, remembering that this was indeed very true. "You really must be the Nerevarine then, to still be alive. What about the battle with Neloth? What exactly happened out there?"

"He challenged me for my title. A challenge like that is usually to the death. I didn't mean to... well. No, I had thought that I might need to at some point, but maybe I wasn't as ready as I thought I was. I'm afraid I won't be able to tell you much, though. I remember the beginning and the end, and there wasn't much to either. I certainly remember him cutting this arm,." She inspected the heavy bandage on her right arm, and even as thick as it was, some blood still seeped through. "It's a good thing I came back to myself when I did. Nerevar is the right handed one, and Neloth didn't know that I favor my left."

"Oh. I had hoped to hear a bit more, but then again, Talvas did tell me most of the rest of it. You really were the Arch-Magister then?"

"Are. I still am."

"R-right. Oh, dear, what will I tell everyone?"

Laje-tal sighed, certain that no matter how the story was told, she was going to hear of it again in all the wrong ways. "Tell them the truth, I suppose. I can tell you any number of things that only a handful of other Telvanni know about to confirm my story, and you could tell them you saw me for yourself. I'm sure they will very happily send their own spies just as they did long ago, they would do that even without you telling them now that they know I killed Neloth. Just make sure you let them know that he challenged me, not the other way around. They would forgive me for defending myself as well as my title, and I'd rather not have dozens of assassins at my tail again."

She had begun to get up and move around a little but Shahvee wouldn't have any of that and made her sit down on the bed again. "That's enough talk of assassins and councilors. You might feel alright now, but once this wears off you won't be fit for more than going back to sleep." At once she looked sharply around the room, waving all of them away. "Well what are you all looking at? Go on! Eat! Get a drink at the cornerclub, I don't care! I swear if I didn't make you all get out of here and eat now and then, you'd all be bones!" She even waved off Aryon. "That goes for you too. Get! Shoo!"

Watching the others leave one by one, Laje-tal laughed the moment they left."Hah! You sure know how to clear a room."

"Hmph, well. We were all concerned for you, even hide-head, but I made sure they ate and rested. Now, I had better give you the rest of this." She handed over a long dark bottle, a shimmery brown substance inside. "Your connection to the Hist is still very weak, even after having you swallow it. Never swallow it again unless you are in very grave peril. It's been known to have very disastrous effects."

"It has?"

Pausing for a moment, Shahvee overcame her brief confusion. "You really haven't learned a thing, have you?"

She ducked her head with a touch of remorse, knowing that despite all she had learned, she had a long way to go. "I never had much of a chance. In the orphanage, I was raised by and around Dunmer. I was the only Argonian there, and that wasn't the best situation even by normal means. In the mines, the others kept away from me. I didn't look like like the rest of them. I was too different, too strange, prone to moments of unpredictable violence. I couldn't help it. My magic has always been like this, bursting from me when least convenient. I'll admit, too, that I was very mean-spirited after the orphanage. In Vvardenfell, I was a Telvanni. Argonians avoided me as a matter of course. When we came here to Skyrim, we were constantly avoiding the Nords because of their hatred of elves soon after the Oblivion crisis, and even many years afterward. The few Argonians I've known have been... hesitant to know me."

As always, Shahvee accepted it with her usual optimistic attitude. "You know me now, yes? There have been some attempts to refine the sap, but never do this. Never. You should only lick, never swallow, or you'll have much the same trouble as you just did. Most importantly, don't let your husband get too close to you after you've had some, if you take my meaning, or you'll have quite a surprise months down the road!"

She laughed, figuring it was probably a joke, given the circumstances. "I'm not worried about that, it wouldn't work anyway."

"Nonsense! The Hist decides, but maybe you did not know this. It can happen without the sap, too, but not often and it never works. Misborn, of course, wrong-headed and no shell, born too early without an egg to live the last months in. Without the shell, they are always born dead. Ah, I can see it in your eyes, it has happened once, hasn't it?"

Laje-tal looked down at the ground, jaw clenched and brows furrowed, remembering it all clearly. Yes, it had happened exactly as she said. Just like that, she found herself telling what she had never told a single soul before. "It did. Only once. Before that, I had thought it wouldn't be at all possible, and that was alright. After the corprus disease we were immortal, after all, and the thought of outliving even the ones that came after us was just too upsetting. When it suddenly happened one day, I didn't know what to do. I was... afraid for many reasons. It was there, though, so I accepted it for what it was. Then one day, I had the most terrible pain I've ever felt and before you knew it, there I was, on the floor and bleeding. I must have been healing for a good month after that, but I didn't know what had happened."

"Shahvee wonders, though. Even in the oldest stories, there are very few occasions of this happening with elves. All the more to my point, though, to be careful with that Hist sap. Such a thing would be considered an abomination to all but those closest to you."

She grimaced, knowing it was the truth. Unconsciously her hands gripped the thick blanket over her, nodding with resignation. "I know that. I know that all too well. We didn't even know how to inter the child. Dunmer custom is to burn the corpse and put it in an ancestral tomb, but to inter that poor creature there would have been sacrilege. We compromised, and put its ashes beneath a fine old tree. I was so blinded by the excitement of what might happen, and that moment brought me back to reality. I have changed so very much, but in the end there will always be things I cannot change."

Shahvee just shook her head, though, dismissing those fears easily. "Life is what you make of it. If you choose to be happy, then you will be. Just see the good in the life you have, and all will be well. You do have some good friends, too, and even if it might only be the two of you, you and your husband are still a family. We can all be good to each other, and our cold lives will get better. See?" She leaned over to show off her heavy amulet of Zenithar. "Your friend Brand-Shei even troubled himself to find this for me while you've been here. That other one, Talvas, helped us bring in more firewood and supplies. I know he was raised to hate us, but I don't think he does anymore. That prejudice was erased by people like us, don't forget that."

"I know. It may have taken some time, but sometimes that's all it takes." Distantly she heard some voices, somewhat loud but not alarming. The noises outside suddenly grew, though, and sounded somewhat hastily hushed as they drew closer. All at once their group entered the assemblage, Aryon hastily coming over and motioning her to sit up if she could.

"We have to get out of here. The Thalmor are looking for us. They can't come into the city, but it won't be long before they try to get someone in here. Brelyna heard it from Suvaris Atheron, that woman you helped when you first came here. They know about you being the Nerevarine."

"Wonderful. I'm so tired, though. I don't know if I can make it very far."

"I didn't think you would." He pulled out of his cloak a few dense seed cakes packed with honey and dried berries, followed by a strong potion. "Eat if you can stomach it. The boatman that took us to Solstheim before agreed to take us again. I don't think he's much of a friend to the Thalmor either, and they will have a hard time tracking us there. I know it might seem... disrespectful, but we can lay low at Tel Mithryn if we must."

Somehow she managed to slide up enough to down the potion he handed her, saving the seed cakes just in case the nausea crept up again. It was all she needed to rise weakly to her feet, sparing a glance at Talvas. "Talvas is the master of Tel Mithryn now. The Thalmor know I'm the Nerevarine, so I wonder if they would remember that I am also a Telvanni. I can't think straight like this."

Brelyna came over to her, helping pack away whatever might be needed in the trip. "I don't think they know as much as the Dunmer do about the Nerevarine, it wasn't something they really had to think much about. Even the Dunmer have been fed so much false information they don't know who exactly was the Nerevarine unless they had been there themselves. Hardly anyone from that time was left alive, so I think you'd be safe enough there. If they knew about you fleeing to Solstheim, the first place they would look is Raven Rock. The Skaal wouldn't be able to hold off the Thalmor. Still, you killed Master Neloth, and even the Thalmor will hear about it eventually. You'd be able to hold out in Tel Mithryn until you get better from this, but probably not any longer."

Aryon sighed, knowing there weren't many options. "Not much we can do. We can't leave the city on foot, they would catch us for sure. You can hardly catch a dragon as you are either, don't even think it. We might be able to convince the boatman to take us to another port town but then what? No, you have to recover before we can even consider fighting again. I know what you're thinking, and I don't like it. We're not taking the fight to the Thalmor until you can cast five major destruction spells in a row."

With a huff Laje-tal rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, I know." She did let him pull her up more steadily, and allowed the others to carry what they would and not take any herself. It was a great concession, as stubborn as she was. To her surprise even Neetranza was back and helping, and now and then he would give her a peculiar look. Making a note to ask someone later about it, she did all she could to maintain consciousness as they moved out of the long dark room. Stands-in-Shallows and the other man were gone, and Brand-Shei mentioned that they were out distracting the guards. Under heavy cloak and blanket, she followed the others as quietly as possible, out into the blinding midday light. The cold air hit her lungs like a stone, and she hastily pulled up the neck of her shirt to ward it off.

Ahead the captain of the great boat waved at them, a grin on his face. For once she was glad to be in the utter thick of Stormcloak territory, knowing not a single person left on the docks would tell the Thalmor anything, never mind that she was an Argonian with several Dunmer. She was still the Dragonborn, still an asset, and they didn't know that her loyalties were more toward the Imperials. Not that she was planning on joining or helping them, but their cosmopolitan ways made it easier for her to move around. Answering his wave with the barest nod, she let the others lead her where they would, the fog of sleep and medications coursing through her system sluggishly.

Brelyna was the first to leave, making haste back to the college. She left under the cover of an invisibility spell, promising that she would make sure everything was taken care of as best as she could manage. Surprisingly Shahvee insisted on staying with their group and none protested, knowing she was probably the best among them to know what to do if something happened to Laje-tal. Neetranza regarded them as he stayed there on the dock, giving them one last solid glance. Finally he nodded respectfully to each of them, ending on Laje-tal. "If you want to come here again, marsh-sister, you may." With that he turned tail and left, going back to work and leaving them speechless.

Only once the dock was out of sight and their ship meandering through the fickle currents did she turn to Aryon, puzzled. "Whatever got into that one?"

He frowned, avoiding her gaze. "I told him about the night of silence."

"I should have known." Shuddering, pulling her cloak closer, she saw that Talvas also looked a little subdued, probably having been told the story as well. Shahvee looked interested but didn't pry, but as she watched her chilled breath fog before the flowing icy water ahead Laje-tal retold what had unfolded during that very long night an age ago, the events just as fresh in her mind as if it had been the day before. "From what I've been told, almost every Argonian knows this story, but they never knew who was behind it. I had always fought slavery, even while I was in House Telvanni. I did it however I could, through slander, guilt, or just freeing the slaves myself. In the end, I had lost count of how many exactly, but finally I made it to the one place I wanted to take out the most. One day, I had begun to chip away at the Dren Plantation, the worst of all the slavers in Vvardenfell. To this day I don't know how we were so lucky for the duke to never find out that I did that."

For a moment Shahvee was quiet, frowning out over the bleak landscape. "The Dren Plantation?"

"Yes, they were of course tied heavily to House Hlaalu, so I had to be careful with what I did there, but once we had enough of a hold over our own territory, I freed all of their slaves in one night of sleep spells and darkness charms. It was a hard sort of thing to do, with all of the guards, and that night was from then on known as the night of silence by all the slaves that were rescued. I waited for the cloudiest, rainiest night, and I consulted with their elder Hides-his-Foot about the best sort of place to escape to. It was a very long night, all of us jumping at the slightest noise, and there were so many slaves escaping at once but we managed. It was the end for most plantations in general, and certainly for Dren Plantation. It ruined them, along with the death of one of the house leaders, and they never recovered. I'm not entirely sure if I had been the beginning of House Hlaalu's ruin too."

"It's no small wonder that Neetranza respects you, then. Shahvee knows that his family had come in part from Vvardenfell just after the Red Year to be here in Skyrim and found mates among the Argonians here, and I know he said that an Argonian named Hides-his-Foot was part of that group. They had come from that very plantation, and had told their children stories of the night when a strange Argonian saved them from their bondage."

She nodded, sinking down to sit on the heavy planking of the deck, still tired but the tense energy of being pursued yet again was still running through her nerves. Surprisingly Talvas came over, pushing a hot drink into her hands. Including him in the conversation with another nod, she gestured absently. "I did disguise myself, of course. I don't think House Telvanni would have cared about me meddling with Hlaalu, but Redoran wouldn't have much cared for that at all and we were too busy trying to play nicely with the Redorans to risk such a thing. That was always the problem with Telvanni business. You had to pay attention to what the other houses were up to. Well, never mind. We shall see soon enough what the house might do about me." With a huff she easily dismissed the heavy mood, giving Aryon a look. "You know, while I was so deep within myself during the past few days, I went so deep that Nerevar found me."

As expected Aryon perked up with interest, but he still looked concerned. "Did you now? I thought he might actually be a more active part of you than was already implied but I never expected he was actually there in full, albeit as just a soul. I sense a long story from you, though, and I won't have any of that from you out here in the cold."

"Bah, I come out into the fresh air finally and you drag me back in again." She rose without any further complaint, though, the chill having made her quite stiff and sore. Joining their group as they went into the lower decks, she couldn't hold off at least starting what would indeed be a long story. "Actually, it all began when I saw Voryn Dagoth..."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: I will be going through previous chapters and making a few minor edits and changes. That is all.

* * *

Aryon woke early, the heavy fog of the new day curling outside the ship's window. He lingered there for a moment, feeling the weariness of the past few days seeping from his bones. With a grumble he finally managed to sit up and peer out into the misty sky, trying to discern just where they currently were. It quickly proved pointless to try so he simply looked down at his wife, noting every last trace of the magic sickness that might remain. Her color had certainly improved, and she had slept soundly through the night without so much as a cough. There wasn't much that could be done at this hour and she needed all the rest she could manage, so he settled for draping a spare blanket over her in his absence, pulling on his heavier cloak before going out onto the deck.

The dense fog made their venture slow to a crawl, the prow of the ship barely making a small wake in the waters underneath. At the front the captain was looking through a spyglass, straining to see the slightest hint of a landmark, a close eye on his compass. Aryon approached slowly, not liking the feel of this peculiar fog. Their whole world had suddenly become a shade of gray and grayer. "What happened? This fog seems unseasonal."

Snapping back in surprise at being addressed, the captain recovered well enough, clicking his tongue with distaste. "Unnatural is what it is, that's for sure. The sea of ghosts has always been a fickle thing, but when we left it was clear as could be. Better not be another thing like what happened at that college or folks will be going crazy." He huffed, slamming the spyglass down on the rail with frustration. "Not a damn thing to see out there. Well, what do you make of this, elf?"

Ignoring the comment on his race he focused on the feel of the fog, smelling the air fruitlessly. "It does seem of a magical nature, but who would do this?"

Laje-tal seemed to manifest straight behind them, the fog was so thick, blankets pulled tightly around her seemingly fragile frame. Her eyes were bright, though, and she moved without any sign of weakness as she approached them. "This fog is so thick with the smell of magic it reeks. Well, it can't be Miraak of course, and I doubt the Thalmor would even know we are out here, much less go to this much trouble to... do what, I wonder? Delay us? Misguide us?"

"Maybe." He frowned with sudden concern for her, distrusting even latent magic in the air possibly affecting her weakened state. "Are you alright?"

"Worried about the magic? No, this is fine. I'm more worried about what this might be leading us into. Aryon, don't give me that look, and don't even think about putting your cloak on top of all of this. If I get one more layer I'll burn up!"

Chuckling a little at her comment he settled for leaning back over the rail, watching as she joined him. "Who, then, I wonder? Weather magic is a hard thing to master well, especially something as subtle as fog. Does it smell thicker in some places?"

She took a sharp breath, tasting the air to get a better sense of its nature, looking to and fro out into the grim sky. "It does seem to cluster more to the north. I know this might sound odd but it doesn't feel like the usual sort of weather magic. It's more... crude? It feels rough, untrained, but at the same time it is very precise. It's an old magic, to be sure."

"I wonder if the dragons might be doing this." At her curious look, he gave her an amused grin. "Were you really not listening to the Greybeards at all? Not that I could blame you. The dragons are of course the closest to Akatosh, but Kyne of the skies is involved in this history too. It would make sense for dragons to have an inherent relationship to the skies and the magic within them. I don't know what they might want us to run into here, but maybe if we head where the magic is thinnest, we can escape it."

Although she looked like she would much rather just kill the dragon and be done with it, she sighed in agreement. "Better to run and fight on even ground than to fall into an easy trap. It's thinnest to the east, and a little south."

Now their Nord captain looked at her curiously, frowning. "If we go too far off course we'll end up in Blacklight, or worse, on that cursed Vvardenfell. It's bad enough this fog made us delay overnight. Still, I don't want to go about meeting any dragons."

A sudden shift in the magic on the wind made her look north, shuddering at the feel. "Whatever it is, it's worsening. Wait." She strained to listen, waiting for the telltale flap of a wing or a distant roar, but it never came. "If only we could just magic the boat invisible."

"Can't you do that? I thought you mages could do almost anything."

Avoiding giving him a somewhat aggravated look she just gestured down at the water. "Oh we could, that would be a simple matter, but it would be pointless. The water is much too still, and invisible we might be but this ship would still leave a wake behind at even the slowest. We would be found easily. To disappear entirely we would have to float the ship above the water, and a levitation spell of that sort would take far too much power for even a short time."

Aryon nodded, still seeming pensive in the shimmering mists. "Not much to do but try to avoid the worst of it. I don't hear anything around us, but that's the problem. It's too quiet."

As the boat slid slowly through the calm sea guided by Laje-tal's senses, the pervasive silence was broken only by the soft lapping of water at the wooden hull. Then suddenly, as if the world had decided to explode with noise, the harsh bellow of a dragon sounded from overhead, a clap of wings unfurled gripping the air echoing off the water. A black, scaled dragon climbed high into the fog, barely visible. Despite the thick cloaking, it was clear just which dragon it was. "That's Alduin," she whispered, watching curiously as he seemed to not notice them at all, winging overhead on a very straight path. Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, she suddenly felt a little puzzled at his odd entrance. "How strange. He couldn't have missed the boat even in this heavy fog. What could he be up to?"

"He must not have known who you were." He huffed, relief evident on his face. "Maybe he summoned this fog to hide his presence, rather than intentionally lead us amiss. He had better things to do, it seems."

"Raising more dragons, you mean." With a small grunt she began to pace restlessly, stopping only when she neared the cabin. "This is ridiculous. There he was, right in bow-shot, and here I am idling about on this ship hiding from Thalmor. While I'm languishing in Solstheim Alduin spends more time in Tamriel, bringing about even more dragons. Damn!" She flicked her tail at nothing, resisting the urge to claw at the boards underneath with her feet. She probably would have kept pacing if Aryon didn't reach out to stop her, hands firmly on her shoulders. In her frustrated state she didn't notice that the rest of their group had come out onto the deck as well, peering at the curious fog.

"You couldn't fight him as you are now. You know that. We need to stop him, I know, but we need to think about how to do this. We couldn't even harm him in the slightest at Kynesgrove. There is more to Alduin's legend than meets the eye, I think. Why else could he have not been killed before? There is a link, something we are missing, just like with Dagoth Ur and the heart. Until we can find out what that is, he will be equally immortal."

Logically, she knew he was right. There had been something unusual about how Alduin seemed to be entirely ignorant of even the harshest blow dealt to him, but she couldn't help feeling somewhat helpless, much like she had once felt in the face of House Dagoth. "I suppose I just worry that this may all be for nothing again. We saved Vvardenfell, but only for such a short time. In the face of what happened after, we were powerless."

As ever, Aryon seemed to know what she meant, and she could see in his conflicted red eyes that he had had these same doubts himself. "Would it be better then to not try? I don't think you would be able to live with something like that. I know you. I, too, wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't even try. You may be the Dragonborn, but I have a place in this too, I think. Maybe something will happen after, maybe we won't be able to fix everything again, but we know what will happen if we do nothing."

With a sigh she acquiesced, losing the tension in her stance. "You're right, I know. It's hard to face the possibility of only one bad choice versus another again, knowing all we can do is fight, but fight we must if we want even the hope of making it through."

Returning to his usual demeanor he frowned, arms crossed sharply. "Well there will be no fighting right now. Maybe we can find some clues while we lose the scent of the Thalmor. We'd better start thinking of how we might pass through Solstheim without attracting too much attention. I doubt the Thalmor would come out all that way, but you did damage their pride quite nicely."

Now she grinned, feeling just a little satisfied at how she had managed to sneak the former Blade from right under their noses. "That I did. Coming out here, they would need to deal with House Redoran, and I don't know how that might go for them. Redoran is strong, and their presence here is enough, if only just so. I think they would be able to inhibit the Thalmor fairly well if they wanted to. It might even be a good idea to check in with Councilor Morvayn again and see what he might make of this. Perhaps we can finally get down to that mine and see what we can do to get it working again. Being the Nerevarine and Dragonborn is fine enough leverage but it will take more than that to get the approval of the Redoran. I think they might help us if we can salvage Raven Rock from ruin again."

"I suspect so too, after all that has happened. What about you, Talvas?"

The Dunmer in question looked at them with a bit of a start, having been almost halfway out of the boat peering down at the rising ocean fog. He frowned slightly as he faced them, brushing off his mage robes absently. "Ah, well, I don't know, Master Neloth wasn't all that well liked in town, I might not be much help in this."

As the remainder of the group all gathered around to discuss their plans, Laje-tal especially now eyed Talvas with a pointed look. "This is where you will have to decide where you want to go from here. Will you stay, or will you go? You could now be the master of Tel Mithryn since Neloth didn't have an heir."

Talvas only shrugged. "Well, I don't exactly have possession of it. If anything, it's yours since you killed him. In all honesty, I don't feel I could go back to the way things were, not after knowing what I do now. The house would be watching my every move and with the council breathing down my neck, I know I'd get assassinated in a heartbeat if I so much as looked at someone askance. Besides, I never go back on my word. I already made up my mind to help you and I will. Don't bother telling me the alternatives."

Laje-tal gave him an approving nod. "I would be glad for your help, but I think the council would be just as much after me as you, never mind that I did what I had to. I think Raven Rock would accept you easily enough if you make it seem as though learning under Neloth wasn't your first choice. Maybe it wasn't, for all I know, but I won't pry. It seems that Brand-Shei will be joining us too as a fellow Telvanni, but that too poses its own question." Her tail flicked idly as she tilted her head to look at Shahvee. "What are you going to do? You're an Argonian in the midst of a crowd of Telvanni. I stand out badly enough as it is, and you aren't a Telvanni. What sort of story do you think we should have for you?"

As expected Shahvee tossed her hands up in a puzzled gesture. "I can't very well play at being a Telvanni, I don't know the first thing about that house of yours and it would probably be too suspicious if I did. Well, you are the Arch-Magister, didn't you have any folk taking care of things? I think I could easily pass as a healer or a minor servant."

Laje-tal grimaced but nodded ruefully. "As much as I hate the thought of ever taking someone on as a servant again, I suppose that's all that could pass." Now she turned back to Aryon, clutching her blanket tighter against the early chill. "Well, what do you think?"

He seemed to think of the idea with about the same amount of enthusiasm as she did. "Nobody would think much of it if she were to pose as our servant. A group of three or more often did have at least one. In our station, it would almost be odd not to."

Everyone jumped as Shahvee clapped her hands together with finality. "It's settled then! Shahvee will fetch and carry and whatever else it is that needs doing! How exciting this is!"

Laje-tal only frowned, feeling the foreboding that all of them felt but tried to push through. "You can be excited when the first of the assassins come."

* * *

The sun, trying hard to warm the cold land and failing, ebbed from sight as a a thick cloud passed in front of it, casting a dark shadow over their group as Laje-tal handed each of them a small pile of coins from their rewards after clearing the mine of Raven Rock. It had gone far better than planned, and things finally started looking up now that the town would get the resources they needed from the mainland Redoran faction. That also meant one very important thing for their group – House Redoran again had a very vested interest in Raven Rock and would defend it far more heavily from here on. Councilor Morvayn wasn't entirely pleased when he heard of their problems with the Thalmor and the Telvanni, but he too had faith that more guards would be sent on to fill the gaps in their defense.

Brand-Shei, however, was still puzzled by why all of the longtime Telvanni in their group seemed perfectly calm in spite of all the potential danger. "It doesn't seem like even with the extra guards that the Redoran will be able to hold off both the Thalmor and the Telvanni at the same time. There's also the risk of a dragon attacking, and what then?"

As the group entered the local inn to find rooms for the evening, Laje-tal nodded at him reassuringly. "I think you, Aryon and Talvas should make short work of a dragon if you work together. You all are naturally resistant to fire and only a small few breathe ice. Don't forget I still have my sword and bow, if not my magic, and I wouldn't think to not at least try. I'm not worried about the Telvanni. If anything, they would first send scouts or spies to get more information on us, and only then gauge whether they want to investigate us or let us be. We would have a fair amount of time to prepare for an actual attack if we kept a close eye out for those scouts. The Altmer and the Dunmer may be as different as can be but I think the Thalmor, too, would use caution before trying anything towards us. All of these motions by both factions will take days at the least. The Telvanni council can move particularly slow if they aren't very interested, but we can't count on that one. Still, I would think by the time they would bother confronting us, I'll be well enough to manage for myself again."

"I guess that's fair enough. The Thalmor don't take risks lightly, I remember that much. Do you think that the Telvanni would call you to their mainland council, though?"

"Hm, that I don't know. Probably, maybe, perhaps not? Who can say?" Stopping as soon as they encountered the fireplace, sighing at the relief the warmth brought to her frigid muscles as she stretched her aching hands over the flames carefully, she looked at him thoughtfully. "I do wonder, too, if they might have found out about you. In our haste we didn't exactly ask Brelyna not to mention you, but I think she is sensible enough to know not to. I suppose they might ask me to present myself before the council but it's just as likely that they won't. They might just send their spies to find out all they care to know and nothing else, they might try to capture us, maybe be idiotic enough to try to poison me. At this point, anything could happen. We had all better keep very open ears around the area, though, and see if anyone might have heard any rumors. Depending on just how much attention we've drawn and what it may mean, it will give a better idea of what to expect."

The day was slowly waning and they headed into the lower floor, entering the bar and making every head stare at them with a mixture of expressions. Laje-tal and Aryon were unfazed by the attention but the others in their group glanced around nervously. Still, a bit of paranoia never hurt anyone, and Aryon took to looking around as well, searching the several faces for one in particular. Unel Lloran, the old colonist who had recognized them before, was luckily sitting at a table in the back corner and with a smile he nudged his wife, gesturing to the man. "Looks like we're in a bit of luck. I bet Unel will have a few things to tell us. He may be a common miner but he always did know what was happening with everyone in Raven Rock."

"A busybody, you mean, but you are right." With a nod she turned to the others. "Might be best if not too many people join us. Talvas, why don't you and the others see what you can get out of the local merchants? I suspect that blacksmith is up to a few things he doesn't want anyone knowing about. No doubt he might hear what he shouldn't as well."

Brand-Shei actually looked very relieved, seeming more confident than he had in a while. "Well now, there's something I'll be good at. If it's one thing I can do, it's get a lot of information out of other merchants. By the end of the evening I should be able to find out a thing or two, maybe barter a bit of supplies if we need anything."

Giving him a hearty clap on the shoulder she grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "That's a fine idea. You go use your charm on them, Shahvee is in charge of the list of things we need so she can point you in the right direction. We'll make sure to secure enough rooms." Trying not to feel paranoid about their group splitting up she mentally braced herself, focusing on what needed to be done now. She half listened to the mull of conversations around them automatically, joining Aryon as he invited himself cheerfully to Unel's table. The man hardly seemed to mind but he made a token jibe at Aryon, giving her a rough grin when she sat down. "Hmph, heard you made quite a mess out there, Arch-Magister. Guess Neloth finally couldn't leave well enough alone, eh?"

She felt herself smiling earnestly at his usual easy attitude. In the early days of Raven Rock he hadn't been like this at all, just as perturbed as any Dunmer at the thought of an Argonian leading anything at all, much less giving a boost to the start of a whole settlement. Over time, just like many others, she had won him over as a friend through persistence and hard work. He clearly still found her very odd but it didn't interfere in their dealings. "Oh you know it was just a matter of time. Honestly I don't know how I managed to avoid him this long, especially during all of the nonsense in the house before Vvardenfell erupted. Tell me though, have you heard anything at all about how the Telvanni are reacting to this? I imagine they aren't happy about Neloth's demise."

Unel's eyes grew a touch sharp, his slowly graying hair falling over his brow as he leaned closer. "You had better believe that. Some of the things he was researching were very important to the council and let me tell you, they are very irritated. Now, me, I'm just a simple miner, you know that, and people will say the craziest things in my hearing because they think I don't know what to do with that information. I know who to tell it to, of course, and I know that the Grand-Magister has already sent out some folk to find out information on a false incarnate. Few remember you, Nerevarine, but he has surely heard of you and will probably try whatever he can think of to slander you."

Beside her Aryon groaned, not liking the sound of this one bit. "Again with the idiotic slander. The Grand-Magister himself being involved in all of this doesn't make things easier, to be sure. To think they would bother with that false incarnate nonsense after all this time! Well, never mind that. What of those spies of his? Any word on assassinations?"

He pursed his lips in thought, fiddling with his drink on the table, glaring at its smooth clay surface. "There has been a bit of a rumor of a possible assassination attempt on Councilor Morvayn. It's just a small rumor here and there and has little to make it seem like a real problem, but Councilor Morvayn has worked so hard trying to keep Raven Rock alive until you cleared the mine, it would be a real blow to morale around here if he got killed. Maybe there's nothing to it, but it wouldn't hurt to look into it if you have the time. Nothing on either of you yet, though you've gotten a bit of interest on you also, Master Aryon. Seems as though the council thought you died during the Red Year. Hah, and of course everyone knows the rumor about your student being an Argonian! Those idiots won't believe it even when they see it."

As Aryon and Unel spoke about other local rumors that had been running the grapevine during their absence Laje-tal stopped listening to them, her mind wandering on its own will. She had heard many things about the Telvanni Grand-Magister, though he was very loathe to leave his cozy seat in Blacklight. Although she was still quite sure that she had been well within her right to kill Neloth in challenge, some of the things she recalled about the Grand-Magister did make her worry a little. The man was very outspoken about his hatred for Argonians, and his tolerance for the other races varied widely on what he thought at the time asked. Some of the atrocities he had committed were infamous, and he was known to stop at very little to get what he wanted. Her worries must have shown because Aryon turned to look at her, putting a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry too much, the Grand-Magister is even more ancient than Neloth was. If it hadn't been for the instability of Mournhould I doubt he would have even left there. It would take more than this to make him move from his perch. He didn't even bother with the Tribunal and Dagoth Ur, and we both know how powerful they were."

She wasn't convinced. "I am the Arch-Magister of Vvardenfell and the Nerevarine. I killed Gothren, two of the Tribunal, Dagoth Ur, and now Neloth. That, and I am supposedly destined to kill Alduin the world-eater. You can't say I'm below his attention."

As quickly as she had said it, she noticed that Aryon had indeed been lying, the truth of his thoughts suddenly plain in his helpless expression. He had been hoping that maybe, just maybe he could convince himself that they weren't worth the Grand-Magister's time. "I know."

Seeing the worry in his eyes, she almost regretted that she had put things so plainly but the feeling quickly drained away, knowing that was simply how it was. She chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, even so, what can that idiot do? We know he knows, we have time to plan for nearly anything he could come up with and I do intend to plan as far ahead as possible. I do have to go on to kill Alduin, after all, and it wouldn't do to be done in by the likes of him."

Across from them Unel laughed, downing the rest of his drink with cheer. "Gods but you always were the oddest Argonian I ever met. I like that. Bah, don't let those rumors worry you, you know how slowly the great houses moved on anything that wasn't vital. You're a potential threat but you haven't done anything anyone can remember for two hundred years. Everyone thought you were dead or gone! No, if you were clearly posing a threat to him he'd probably be more interested, but hard to say. You just stay in Raven Rock however long you need to. Councilor Morvayn will gladly have you around and if you need a poor old miner, well, you've got one."

Laje-tal nodded, and she looked more optimistic. "What about this assassination attempt on Councilor Morvayn, though? Who would want to do that?"

With a puzzled shrug Unel leaned back in his rickety chair, the poor furniture squeaking painfully. "From what I've heard, the Hlaalu. Guess they're still full of sour grapes after they fell out of the great houses, but after they depended on the Imperials so much what did they expect? Take one thread out of the rug and the whole thing falls to pieces. It's just like what happened to this damned settlement, I tell you. I'm no Redoran, but I'm glad they came about, even if it was to get hold of our ebony. I'll make sure nobody says any different than what happened with the idiotic rumors running around, you just see to it you send those Hlaalu nix-hounds back to where they came from with their tails under their legs!"

Aryon laughed, gladly agreeing to the terms. "We might have just as well done so even if you hadn't asked. I'm not exactly a supporter of the Redoran but it's hard not to have respect for what they have done to help the people in their care. I don't have much liking for the Hlaalu either, and I know how hard it has been for Councilor Morvayn. Don't worry, we saw to the mine and we will see to this too if we can manage it, but I think the rest of our group should be returning soon. They should have been here by now."

Somewhat grateful for an excuse to move from the uncomfortable chair she was on Laje-tal rose, already feeling a crick in her tail. "Go ahead and chat, I'll look for them. They probably got into bartering with the locals." As she turned to leave she gave him a playful poke. "I'm sure you can manage not to choke on a fork while I'm gone." She was out the door in a hurry, her long robes fluttering in her wake. Only when they were sure she was gone did Unel lean forward, chuckling under his breath.

"I always did wonder why in all of Tamriel you married an Argonian but y'know, she's alright."

Aryon just grinned, shrugging casually. "I never did know how to be normal."

* * *

A few days had come and gone, and the main problem had been how to tackle Laje-tal's magical problems. Not long after she woke she had been having small spurts of magic returning, coming and going as it would and being too unpredictable to want to stay in the inn with all of its flammable wood. She made use of her magic restricting amulet but now Aryon was hovering over an alchemy pot, carefully mixing together several ingredients they had managed to barter. The alchemist who owned the alembic and cooking station didn't mind once he started giving her some pointers on handy potions to make from the non-native plant species, and he certainly enjoyed passing along his knowledge while passing time that would otherwise have been mind-numbingly dull.

Talvas had taken on the task of making sure Laje-tal was out of range of the city and was well guarded, and after a bit of debate they had all settled on her staying near the earth stone to see if being near it might help her magic stabilize. She hadn't wanted to stay so far out of range of being able to hear any sort of talk about anything that might be of use but after the others promised to be just as vigilant as she would be there was little left to argue about. She had always been well attuned to the standing stones, her magic more reliable when in range of them, and there she would stay until some progress had been made. That just meant that now Aryon, the only master alchemist left in the group, was here restoring their stock of magicka-reducing potions for her. It wasn't a simple recipe. As an Argonian and as someone who was affected by the corprus disease, even the most powerful of poisons didn't do more than maybe cause a headache. The sheer potency of what he was now making was enough to kill several adept mages, and even so it would only reduce her excess magicka to a comfortable level.

It was during this rather intensive and problematic process that a courier came scrambling towards him, nearly upsetting the fragile mixture he had been stirring. Carefully saving the nearly tipped pot he managed to maintain his composure, turning to see what had been so terribly important for the courier to be so very much out of breath. The young Nord man was indeed looking a little pale and was already gazing forlornly at the local well and likely thinking of sticking his head directly in it to drink, but business came first. Aryon was a bit more polite than most Dunmer toward Nords and took pity on the poor man, handing him a restorative potion from his satchel. "Who are you looking for? Here, have a bit of this."

The flustered courier gave a somewhat dubious glance at the potion but then again, he was terribly thirsty and who would bother to poison a courier? He downed the whole thing in just a few gulps, already feeling his stamina returning. Scratching at his blond head nervously he extended his arm, letter in hand. "Ah, yes, Master Aryon, right? I have a letter for the Dragonborn. I had heard she was on the isle but I couldn't quite... well she isn't in town but... ah, could you let her know I'm looking for her? You know her, right?"

"Yes, I... one moment." The potion he had been finishing up finally turned a greenish tinge, and he bottled it up quickly before it could overcook. Moving to take the letter he nodded. "Right, I'll take it. Don't look so worried, I'll get it to her once I've cleaned up. You'd better get yourself to the inn before you collapse."

The courier did still look a bit troubled though, and hesitated. "I really am supposed to give it straight to her, but he did say you could be trusted too. I am a bit out of breath..." Reluctantly he handed over the letter, watching a few people head into the inn for lunch, wondering what foods people ate in this sort of place. "Alright, here. It's highly urgent, though, so please do get it to her right away! Oh, and ah... do you know where I could get more of that odd little potion you gave me? I swear it made my skin creep all the way to my ankles but by Shor was it a mighty kick in the behind!"

Aryon couldn't help but laugh just a little at the description, knowing quite well how his potions went down sometimes. He took one more bottle from his pack, handing it to the man with a grin. "I doubt you'll find more out there quite like it so take this for your trouble. I'll be sure to deliver this message as soon as I can." His assurance seemed to be good enough for the courier and as promised, he headed out to meet with Laje-tal as soon as he finished. Although he had wanted to get a couple more potions done, they could wait until later. There were at least a few now and hopefully they could make them last. As he headed to the long path that led to the earth stone, wind picking up the ever-constant ash on the ground, he stole a glance at the message. It wasn't like he wasn't going to be privy to it anyway, and likely it would involve them both as well. Upon reading it, though, he was left just as clueless as before. The wording was odd, and it seemed to be coded as well, so he left well enough alone for now. He would know soon enough.

* * *

At the earth stone, a tall, looming and yet somehow calming structure built by people unknown ages past, Laje-tal was sitting on a large stone, trying to keep still while Talvas was writing furiously in his notes. Staying in one spot certainly wasn't something she was good at, and eventually she rose and drew her sword, practicing against an imaginary opponent. She could feel her muscles gratefully stretching after spending so long recovering, but at the same time she knew that she couldn't push herself as much as she'd like. Talvas tore out a page of his notes, wadding it up with frustration and seemed to give up, just watching her spar for a moment. He must have found something interesting about what she was doing as he went back to his notes, scribbling something else.

The attention didn't bother her, as accustomed as she was to Aryon doing the same thing, but she did wonder what he was writing about. Striking forward with deadly precision she swiped upward, slashing to the side and curving back, twisting about on the stone to face behind. Finally her curiosity won out over her practice, and she came over to where Talvas sat on an overturned crate. He seemed to be a little puzzled by her looking over his shoulder but he handed over his notes, watching as she nodded approvingly. "Ah, I thought you might be doing this. Notes on magical absorption?"

"Yes, I thought I might as well. I must admit, I've never known a mage who can't stop gaining magicka, I've only heard of a few here and there, and what little is written about them is vague."

Standing nearby she stretched, tail flicking about as her active nature took over again. "I'll have to show you Aryon's notes sometime, I'm sure he would gladly let you see them. Even after all of this time, though, we're still not entirely sure how my magicka works. I can sniff out magic in the soils and wind, I can feel it coming from the earth stone, but how do I take in more than I should? Even I don't know."

"Still you took in so much energy from the eye. You redirected that energy in the fight, just as if you were channeling it directly." He took a moment to circle something, nodding. "Yes, it's almost like you are a channel."

She shrugged. "Well, during the battle Neloth did say I was a channel, but I'm not sure what he meant by that. From what I know, a person who is a channel is different from someone who is an overfull mage."

Talvas just looked equally puzzled, not sure what to think of it either. "I suppose you are in a way, although indirectly. Well, maybe I'll check Aryon's notes and see what I can find out." For a while he looked over his notes while Laje-tal fought the air, watching as she combined armed and unarmed attacks, still a little amused at himself for following someone he didn't really know all that well. Several things came to mind that he wasn't sure how to ask or even if he should, but she hadn't seemed to mind some of the odd things Aryon often said or asked. "Did you ever have any students?"

Laje-tal paused in mid-stab, giving him a somewhat startled look. Putting her sword into a less threatening position she nodded slightly. "In a way, yes. Most of my time on Vvardenfell was spent as Aryon's student, but after I had my stronghold made I did have several people living there. If they came to me to learn, I would teach them, but it was a bit of an issue getting even them to trust me. As to whether I had a student in the way that Aryon had me, no. My Mouth in the house was all I had. I might have had another, if the fool hadn't run off with a clan of vampires, but so it was."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

She just gestured dismissively, going back to her exercises. "Well, don't be sorry for asking a question, if you don't question what's around you, you end up following instructions when you shouldn't be. If you want to learn, then learn, but always ask why, how, or what. You're not always right, and neither am I, nor is anyone. That is the most important thing I ever learned from Aryon."

Talvas found himself looking up at her from his notes, her golden eyes watchful, and found that he could actually look past her unnerving stare and see the surface of the person she really was. He hadn't ever thought he could be friends with an Argonian, and while Shahvee was simply friends with anyone she wanted to be, Laje-tal was far more reserved and cautious. More and more he was starting to understand how she and Aryon had come to an accord despite their differences. "You've learned quite a bit from each other, haven't you?"

Finishing up a particularly complicated move that ended with a twist that required a bit of focus, she set up a parry, laughing lightly. "Well I would sure hope so after this long!" Her tone did grow more serious, though, and while she continued with her increasingly violent maneuvers she nodded at the memory of many lessons gone by. "It's funny, I started off mostly learning from Aryon and I only sometimes had the chance to show him a thing or two. We learned far more than just magic, of course, and I think it was those things that changed us the most, whether we wanted to change or not." She turned to him and grinned, pointing her sword at him with a casualness that would have bothered him in the past. "Hah, I think I know what you're getting at. You want us to teach you, right? Well, it would hardly be proper but then we've not been proper about quite a few things. I know it is acceptable to find a new patron or mentor if the one you were under has died. Being mentored by the one that killed them is even better, by Telvanni standards, but you had better be mentored by Aryon if you want to maintain even a shred of your dignity."

Talvas wasn't completely convinced, though, despite what he knew of the house. "But you are the Arch-Magister of Vvardenfell. Argonian or not, you are clearly skilled enough to be of that rank, even if very few people remember you from that time."

She sighed, finally putting away her sword and sitting on the rock, looking at him very frankly. "I probably shouldn't tell you such a thing but you need to understand why everyone who learned even a small spell from me kept it to themselves. Aryon is entirely disposed from his family, even to the point where he wouldn't be accepted for interment at their burial chambers, but even he would be acceptable to learn from rather than me. I've been teaching Brand-Shei because he hasn't been formally recognized by the house and he still doesn't know much of anything about the house, so his transgressions would be forgiven if it came to that, but there is no excuse for you. I'll show you what you should know, but if anyone asks where you learned it, either say you came up with it on your own or that you learned it from someone else."

Slight shock had flashed across his expression when she mentioned Aryon's relation to his family, knowing how severe indeed it was to be denied burial in his own ancestor tomb, but at the same time he recognized her acceptance of him as a possible student. "So you'll teach me?"

"Perhaps. I'm not quite the same sort of teacher you may have had before, though. I believe in practical learning, and given the path I am on there will likely be many, many dragons to contend with. You're not the same person we saw at Tel Mithryn. I don't see the hunger for power in your eyes anymore or I wouldn't teach you anything. If all I can do is show you that great power doesn't make for a great person, then I have done better than if I had made you into a master wizard." Looking behind them she twisted her head further, squinting. "Well, this had better wait, I think. It looks like Aryon is coming, though he's a bit early."

Amidst the wind-blown ash, brush and twisted trama-roots, Aryon was indeed making his way down the road. He was also definitely very early given the complexity of the potions he had wanted to make, and from the look on his face something had come up. As soon as he came close enough, pulling at his collar to keep out the wind, he looked at both of them, giving Laje-tal a playful grin. "A courier came by with a message for the Dragonborn." When she frowned he only smiled, handing her the note with a dismissive gesture. "Well, you are the Dragonborn, my dear, you may as well get used to every Nord having the word on their lips. I wonder if you can make any sense of this note, though; it seems like a bunch of coded nonsense."

Understandably she looked puzzled, taking it from him quickly. "Coded? Who in all the world would need to send me a coded message?" When she started to read the code, though, she recognized the pattern instantly, the phrasing just a bit off to deter any would-be decoders.

_Dragonborn, the moon is half-full in the center of the great tree, and the waters of its pool overfilled with finned creatures. The candle blown out smolders in the shadow, and those who watched it tend its smoke on the precipice of a cliff. The dragon's scale, ridged seven times, at night's longest hour sought for the binding. A long empty hall, refuge, prison and a star, filled with naught but the scatter of ash and bones of the immortal. A red crow, perched on rim, under a bloody moon. Your neighbor in Tear._

Abruptly she stood, stashing the note away hastily and getting her things. "We have to leave Raven Rock. Now. Where are the others?"

Talvas looked utterly confused but Aryon didn't question her, quickly checking to make sure he had everything as well. "Damn. I asked them to have their way around town as long as they didn't leave, they shouldn't be too far at least. How long do we have?"

"There is plenty of time. Still, the sooner we can leave the better, and the farther we can go. We should still make it to the designated place ahead of schedule." Seeing Talvas scrambling to get his papers into his satchel but still looking at her expectantly she only sighed, shrugging helplessly. "I'm sorry, I'll have to explain along the way. We can't risk any possibility of being overheard. Just know that I know who sent this, and that they can be trusted."

Thankfully Talvas understood, the look on his face grim. "I get it. Well, if that's how it is, then we'd better go. Let's search for the others and meet up at the gate." Snatching back a bit of charcoal as it tried to escape his pocket he frowned, looking around nervously. "What about being seen? Do you think you can manage an invisibility spell?"

"No," she said honestly, taking the potions Aryon handed her gratefully. "I might be able to, but there's no sense in taking the risk. Between you and Aryon we can manage, though, especially if we keep somewhat separated. I have faith that you can maintain a long duration spell of that magnitude."

He just laughed a little, following after them as they set a quick pace back into town. "You seem to have quite a bit of faith in me about many things."

Despite the solemnity of what they may be currently trying to escape, she grinned at him, knowing what he meant. "I did warn you that we do things a bit differently. Let's get going, though. If you need anything in town yet, be quick. I feel we might not have quite as much time as we would like." Wordlessly they divided, the wind picking up even more and filling in their footsteps as soon as they moved, clouding the open sky in a dim haze.

* * *

At the edge of Miraak's dead temple their small group gathered under a rocky overhang, doing their best to mask a small, smokeless fire in the hollow deep within. Everyone had read the decoded note from the courier, but even Aryon couldn't make any sense of it despite his years of decoding studies, only Laje-tal guiding them where they supposedly needed to go. At long last, here in the silent wilderness, rains moving in and muffling all but the closest noises did she finally speak, nodding first at Aryon. "It's been a bit long even for me to decode this particular script, but I remember." Scanning the parchment once more she read off the phrases, each vague passage only a hint to its real purpose.

Shahvee looked at the note curiously, having been setting up a crude but effective cooking stone for the meat they had managed to hunt on the way here. "Ah, I wonder if the great tree might be something akin to the Hist?"

Across from her Talvas pulled his cloak closer, still shivering from the chilling rain. "More likely it has to do with the Telvanni, I think. Our symbol is a great tree, and if the person is warning us about the involvement of the house, it would make sense to use that idea."

Laje-tal nodded, trying to shake off the creep and crawl of her skin as her magic had been slowly beginning to return. She quietly resolved to never try something as insane as draining her magic so badly ever again if it could be helped. "Just so. The moon half full is a house divided over a problem, and the turbulent pool filled with fish symbolizes their uncertainty. The candle is of course Neloth, and the precipice is how they are on the verge of action for what I have done. I am the dragon's scale, as the seven ridges are the seven trials of the Nerevarine and I am of course the Dragonborn. I'm being sought after to be captured, it seems. This place is the prison and also the star, the star representing the heavens and a shrine. It is this shrine specifically because it is the only one in here or Skyrim that is filled with ash and bones of the once immortal dragons. The red crow is our message writer, and he should be close by, as this is the region where the bloodmoon occurred. My neighbor in Tear, the same Dunmer who had been enslaved in that damned glass mine alongside me." She smiled, seeing Aryon's glance change with understanding and a bit of amazement. "It seems as though my old Mouth has gotten a bit bored of Cyrodiil."

Aryon at first had been in a bit of disbelief but the more he thought about it, the more this seemed to make some sense. "Given the significance of the Dragonborn in history, it would follow that Cyrodiil would be talking about you, and who knows who else. He was just as interested as I was with the Nerevarine prophecies, and he helped quite a bit in getting a few things done in that time."

"For all I know, he never stopped following the doings of the house. Well, I left him a sign that we are here. Once the rain lets up we should head into the temple. I don't know about the rest of you but I'm terribly hungry and I'm not about to let even him keep me from whatever that wonderful smell is."

Everyone in the group did at least concur to that, Shahvee's very great-smelling bit of roasted meat enough for all of them to get their fill easily. Over their meal she explained to Shahvee as well as Brand-Shei what role a Mouth played in terms of the house, though she had given Eddie much more freedom to move from town to town as he pleased rather than require him to stay in the council house, much as Aryon had done with her. He had been absolutely vital when she had needed to send a message very discreetly and they had developed a code that wasn't easy to solve, relying heavily on symbolism and things only they understood. She had been able to walk into the council house when he was scheduled to be there and would give him messages to her Dunmeri alter-ego, Lenassa Tenavvi. Such was his great friendship that he had been the first person she had written to after she had received her warning from Azura, sending what little coin she could manage to help pay for a boat out of wherever he wished.

During this conversation the man in discussion made a cautious approach at their camp, so thoroughly disguised in white and gray clothing that he was almost missed entirely. His movement was slow and careful, staying low to the ground and looking in every direction with a paranoia undoubtedly gained from many years of irritating several factions at once. Only when he seemed completely sure of his surroundings did he creep into the cavern created by the overhang, nodding briefly to all of them but focusing on Laje-tal, pulling aside his rough scarf and giving her a sly smile.

"Well now, there's an Argonian I haven't seen in far too long." His voice came out with a harsh rasp, and there was an assortment of peculiar burn marks and scars on his worn face. It was quite blatant that he had seen his share of trouble over the years and despite his relatively young age he looked like he might just be graying early. Sparing a glance at the odd assortment of people there with them, he decided to stick to business for now. "You'd better put out that fire, though you hid it well. I could smell that food even over the ashfall. I know the rain is problematic but you need to come with me. We could be discovered at any moment, and the temple is the only place nobody would go."

Laje-tal nodded solemnly, forgoing the pleasantries as well. "Have a bit of the roast, though, as we go along. You could stand to have a good meal or two from the looks of it."

"You're very right about that. Come, and get that hot rock well out of here. We can't leave even a trace." He faded back into the wilderness as easily as he had come, waiting nearby until they joined him. All traveled in utmost silence, covering their tracks and using spell and stealth to hide their noise and appearance. Eddie would pause at any odd noise, a bird, a scuffling bear, the creak of a dying tree. His paranoia was warranted as they barely avoided a suspicious looking Dunmer in chitin armor, her equipment giving her away to be a scout. After what seemed like ages they descended into Miraak's temple, and Laje-tal led them into a large, empty dining area that now only collected cobwebs.

Aryon was the first to speak, looking genuinely worried after seeing the scout. "Was that person what I thought she was?"

With a frown Eddie shook his head, taking off his own chitin helm, a very different make and clearly very, very worn. "A buoyant armiger? No, thankfully that armor is used by regular scouts, too, and an armiger wouldn't have been standing there so openly. Still, I wouldn't put it past the Temple for wondering about you. I heard rumors of a false incarnate, if you can believe that idiocy. Gods, from what I hear you have just about everyone in Tamriel wondering what you're doing."

Looking at the table nearby a bit dubiously Talvas brushed off a bit of dust, sitting down and bringing up a very good point. "Why would it matter whether she was Nerevarine or not? That really doesn't have any bearing on anything going on right now. I can understand their interest in the Dragonborn or anything else that has been going on recently, but that was over two hundred years ago."

"No idea. One thing I made sure never to tamper with was the Temple, can't say what it might be that they would want from the Nerevarine but I suppose old wounds are still festering in that place. They're probably just curious, but it was what was going on in House Telvanni that made me come to bring you here. I have news you won't like."

Laje-tal just shook her head, sitting down as well. Trying to ignore the scrabbling of spiders too close overhead she leaned forward, resting her arms just barely enough on the dirty table. "You often did have that sort of news. Might as well get on with it."

"Right." Unlike the others he seemed too nervous to sit and just paced for a moment, finally trying to lean against the wall casually, still looking now and then at the open door. "You might have already heard, but the Grand-Magister was more than a little upset over Neloth. As it turns out, whatever Neloth was researching before you killed him was very, very important to the Grand-Magister and despite scouring Tel Mithryn they can't find whatever it is they were looking for. I only caught bits and pieces of rumors, and even those I had to try and make sense of, but there was something going about that he had discovered a missing Telvanni, and also that... well, this just sounds silly, but... apparently Hermaeus Mora had granted some power to the Dragonborn that could bring an entire people to their knees in service."

She only nodded ruefully, knowing that it was only a matter of time before that information spread that far, no matter how Neloth had tried to keep it to himself. "It's true. The powers of the Dragonborn include an old ability known as a shout, much like how the Nords had once used the power of the Voice in combat at Red Mountain." When he nodded confirmation that he knew that old story she continued. "There are many kinds of shouts, from what I've been learning. The one I learned from Mora is the same he taught Miraak long ago, a shout that can force the will of a dragon into serving the user. To force the service of a dragon is a very hard thing to do, so it would follow that the same power could be used on people as well, which is how this very place came to be excavated. This was actually how I had come to confront Neloth."

As the dim torch light flickered back and forth across the aged stone walls, she told the story about how they had discovered Neloth's plan, the eye of Magnus, and the battle that had ensued in the chaos, up to and including unintentionally giving Neloth the fatal blow. When she had asked about the missing Telvanni, though, he showed that as usual, he was more perceptive than he seemed. "Hah, yes, a missing Telvanni, who it seems you have with you, if I am right?"

Grinning at his familiar perceptiveness she nodded, gesturing to Brand-Shei. "Well I couldn't very well leave him be once I found out about him, and apparently we were right in thinking that he had been found out by the house."

Although Brand-Shei did look rather nervous he couldn't help but laugh a little at how strangely things had turned out. "And now here we are evading almost everyone in the province all while trying to kill those dragons. Ah... speaking of which, I had an interesting thought about that dragon Alduin. It seems strange that he could simply entirely disappear for such a long time and it wasn't that he had died, but had vanished. I had wanted to ask you if it was possible to seal something like him."

"It wouldn't be entirely impossible, but to seal something so big and with so much power would take..." She paused, sharing a look with Aryon and she knew he was thinking just what she was thinking. "An elder scroll. But how? Who would have had such skill to do that? Still, it's a good idea, Brand-Shei. I think you're right about that. The Blades had mentioned a ruin that they wanted me to meet them at, somewhere called Sky Haven Temple. From what I recall, that place was founded by the Akaviri and if that's right it would be a good idea to take a look at it. The ancient Blades were professional dragon hunters, and I have no doubt they would have recorded such an event as the defeat of Alduin. I know we had a bit more we intended to do while here on the isle, but I suspect the best logical thing to do for now is find out more about the prophecy and how best to confront Alduin. The problem, though, will be getting there."

Thankfully Eddie seemed fairly confident, nodding down the hall to a lengthy tunnel. "I'd be ashamed to call myself your right hand if I couldn't even get you out of Solstheim. I know a few back ways and side roads, know what I mean? I also know a very fine Thalmor ship we can... borrow. Follow me. I'll get you wherever you need to go."


End file.
